[Chorus]
Cry, Cry, Cry me a river,
Cry, Cry, Cry me a stream
Cry, Cry, Cry me a shower
To wash me from this dirty
dream.
The man in black said keep
the baby
From the grips that Hell employs
So she did what the good book
told her
let them talk away her choice
She thought the child would
make her happy
Dress it up just like a doll
But all it does is cry like
she does
All she turns to is the wall
[Repeat Chorus]
So she saunters toward the
mirror
Brings her face up to the
glass
Eyes like buoys in salt water
Will this aching ever pass?
She says "God I've got to leave
the city
Where my fresh milk has gone
sour
But I'm trapped Ain't it a
pity
Pulled all the petals off
my flower."
© Susan Firing
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |