Letter in a Mailbox

Talk's gone around that you had a baby
She dance to 40, like she were a pen with something to say
Heard her name is from father time, since time slips away
But I hate all this secondhand, can't you write something my way?
I'm starting to doubt if we're even friends
And it'll only get harder to raise my flag

Every dimension has bound to one
She's on zero (zero, zero), undressed under white light (oh, yeah)
Face held in hands, palms bear the tongue
Beauty beyond imagination, stripped of words to be sung
Being peacock won't fly for her again, no, no, no
If it's power you want, then raise a flag
Take some pride in that woman and raise a flag

Oh, her face drags along
Like her pride, set in stone
Although it hurts (although it hurts)
My habit's fallen to her (fallen to her)
I am bound to your every word
I am bound to your every word, ah, ah

Now part of me will always stand by you
It's not intention, you know it's all habit (it's all habit)
My face is in my hands, sinking down into my grooves
And it's cost me my universe ever loving you
It's clear I made too much of what we had (uh)
Now you don't have a chance
So I can't chance to stand up my flag