Mother Of That Child

A little trace of wrinkles on her face
From an act of kindness
that she disgrace

A neat ajustment
on her satin lace
That is holding her together
In her purple haze

While the sinister and sad her soul devours
She tries to rest her head on broken flowers

And even if I sat to wait for hours
Nobody would claim
the girl as ours

Mother of that child
When do you arrive?
Can't you her her cries?
Mother of that child

She's sitting in a room with smokey mist
Holding only tight
to her fragile wrist

When too old men
asks her for a kiss
She does nothing
but to clench her fists

Mother of that child
When do you arrive?
Can't you her her cries?
Mother of that child

Just a little girl
but filled with rage
Nobody's gonna ask her
about her age

All she really want is to
flip the page
No one's gonna save her
When she just waits

While the sinister and sad her soul devours
She tries to rest her head on broken flowers
And even if I sat to wait for hours
Nobody would claim
the girl as ours

Mother of that child
When do you arrive?
Can't you her her cries?
Mother of that child