I'm looking at a photo of me. I am thirteen. I have never been kissed, Never been touched, Never known love. My hair is bleached blonde And I know nothing of sorrow.
I'm looking at a photo of me. I am sixteen. His lips have kissed every part of me; Every inch of my skin has been touched. I have never known love. My hair is bleached blonde, And now I know sorrow.
I am looking at my face in the mirror. I am eighteen. My skin has been kissed by the sun. I now touch only to show affection, Because I know it now; I know love. I'm letting my roots grow out; I know nothing of sorrow.