To the little brown bag. If it's all (that) she has to show,
Torn like a rag, Crazy lady she doesn't know,
'cause there's nothing inside, Was there anything anytime
Little Brown Bag;
She'll be there in the morning, sitting alone with her world in her hands,
No goodnight in the evening, The city it understands, the circumstance.
In the, little brown bag. Maybe here she's better than you
Torn like a rag, Look away it's good that you do.
As you're, staring too hard, You could see that somehow it's real
Little Brown Bag.
What did she turn her back on, Was it the nightmare she couldnt face;
Look around, It may tell you, She only puts a good case,