| Up and down the dirty room her voice rings out
|
| What’s it all about?
|
| A maid of fourty-two her arms stretched out
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| But nobody holds her
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| And watch the children laughing behind her back
|
| In that dirty schoolroom
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| Too young to realise why she looked so blank
|
| And why her face reflects doom
|
| It’s a mean old town and you know it brings her down
|
| Alice mercy, she gets on her knees to pray
|
| And the friends she knew have all since passed through
|
| Leaving nothing but memories and pain
|
| The likelihood of doing anything that’s new is so far-off and few
|
| Jailed by the values she holds so dear and true
|
| «They're the right things to do»
|
| But it’s a mean old town and it brings her right down
|
| Alice mercy gets on her knees to pray
|
| And the friends she knew have since passed by through
|
| Leaving nothing but memories and pain
|
| Overtaken by the grief she feels, she cries
|
| The water fills her eyes
|
| With clouded vision hammers pounding in her brain
|
| She rushes out insane
|
| Picks up a knife you know she plains to take her life
|
| But it’s easy to live and hard to die
|
| So she remains just to fight back her pain
|
| And like dust she is scattered by the wind and the rain
|
| (To whom it may concern)
|
| Ten years ago on a cold wet mourn
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| I looked for you but you had gone
|
| And you never left a word
|
| You never saw how bad that hurt
|
| The way the firelight danced across your face
|
| Time along cannot erase
|
| Memories now locked inside
|
| They can’t be taken or destroyed |