Stories of old
A child I never knew
Shares with me her past
Makes it difficult to get through
Her pleading green eyes they stare
Telling me to make it right
When I do wrong
She turns away, cries
Shares with me her fright
Shows me her futuristic pictures
All a pack of lies
Or will she show them to me in truth
Before the day I die?
It is her parents who come to me
Begging forgiveness – they want their daughter back
But how can I give them what I haven’t got?
I don’t know their daughter
Forgiveness I lack
If you ask me who she is
I would look around and see
That if I search within myself
I’d find that she is me
Stories of old
A child that never weeps
Hides from me her past
And dies without a peep
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