Mother's sick and I admit
That I have kept things to myself
I adore you, I'm ignored by you
You've kept me on the shelf
How could I expect to die on such a lovely day like this?
How could I expect to cry with all that I've been given?
Oh, oh
Mother's sick and I admit
That I have kept things to myself
I adore you, I'm ignored by you
You've kept me on the shelf
How could I expect to die on such a lovely day like this?
How could I expect to cry with all that I've been given?
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
