Texty: Tori Amos. Hey Jupiter.

No one's picking up the phone, guess it's me and me.
And this little masochist, she's ready to confess,
All the things that I never thought that she could feel and,

Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same.
So are you gay, are you blue?
Thought we both could use a friend to run to.
And I thought I wouldn't have to be with you... something new.


Sometimes I breath you in, and I know you know.
And sometimes you take a swim, found your writing on my wall.
Well, if my hearts soaking wet, boy your boots can leave a mess.


Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same.
So are you gay, are you blue?
Thought we both could use a friend to run to.
And I thought you wouldn't have to keep with me, hiding.
Who... ho, who... ho, who...ho, yes.


Thought I knew myself so well, all the dolls I had.
Took my leather off the shelf, your apocalypse was fab.
For a girl who couldn't choose between the shower or the bath.
And I thought I wouldn't have to be with you, a magazine.
Who... ho, ooh... ho, who... yes. Who... who... who... yes.


No one's picking up the phone, guess it's clear he's gone.
And this little masochist is lifting up her dress.
Guess I thought I could never feel things I feel and,


Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same.
So are you gay, are you blue?
Thought we both could use a friend to run to.
Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same.
So are you safe, now we're through.
Thought we both could use a friend to run to.
Hey Jupiter...