Sound of the grief

Father said: You are allways alone
Keeping cross in your small hand
Father's dead, but still his words
Are sounding in my small head

Darken room, no peace of meat
Tired hands lay the table
Candle light, and eyes of him
Fulled of tears, to weep not able

Chorus:
Mother's gone, when I was five
No one knows what way she went
Long disease entered our life
And became the bride - heeding the end

When I look at my small hands
I remember all my past
I'm queen of nothingness
One more poor, who will die fast

They all look at me and laugh
They need me, like mirror's sight
Freaks are goods, they cannot love
Cannot bring to world some light

Chorus.

I'm alone. It is my cross.
That is all, I cannot cross.
Line of law, written by god
Someone's gold and someone's mud.