Из альбома: Privilege
So much tragedy etched on her face
Now she sits alone in an old rocking chair,
And nobody cares, in the room at the top of the stairs
In her cupboard that's full of glass jars
Where she keeps the babies that God wouldn't spare,
A secret they share Nobody knows that they're there
Antiques gathering dust, her grandfather's clock that has long since stopped
Like the visits from daughters who no longer care
She sits in her old rocking chair
So much tragedy etched on her face
Now she sits alone in an old rocking chair,
And nobody cares, in the room at the top of the stairs
And her ghost will return
And her ghost will return
And her ghost will return