| My father promised me roses
|
| My mother promised me storms
|
| My father taught me to use my mind
|
| My mother taught me scorn
|
| He touches me gently with his hand
|
| It feels like being born
|
| It feels like being born
|
| It feels like being born
|
| It feels like being born
|
| My father promised me green trees
|
| My mother promised me stars
|
| I hardly see the love I have
|
| It all goes by so fast
|
| He kisses me gently, with his lips
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| It’s near, what once was far
|
| It’s near, what once was far
|
| It’s near, what once was far
|
| My father promised me roses
|
| My mother promised me thorns
|
| My father taught me to use my mind
|
| My mother taught me scorn
|
| He touches me lightly with his hand
|
| It feels like being born
|
| It feels like being born
|
| It feels like being born |