Scatter the roots of our passage tonight

Discard the memories we chose to survive

All of our senses overshadowed by a song

Pining for strength and deprive from the strong

When she was five years old there’s cake and bright lights

And when she was ten she became the maid’s bride

With temperance and beauty and salvation unknown

A life isolated, heinous and young

Stand up and face it although you’re half dead

Try to remember though they’ve taken your head

Why we sleep fully dressed and rise early from bed

Who did this to us? Who did this to us?

So partial to memory the pearls of our dead

But where do we keep them? Put them here by the steps

While I climb to the top and I find where I am