A little bird said
You hate it when I complain
So I've kept quite for days
And nothing's been the same

I keep a quite tongue
Silent and locked up tight
I try not to whine to you
But I am lonely and scared at night

Repressed memories
Have made themselves clear
I usually speak to you of my troubles
Now you don't want them near

I rock myself in my bed
Afraid of what's to come
My only wish to tell you now
But my body is too numb

I promise I will not complain
To you any more
But who will I talk to now
When death is knocking at my door