Tonight my past flashed before my brown eyes The same ones that could look past the pain and lies So that once and for all there could be clear perception Of the skeletons which we kept hidden by deception
What I saw brought no joy, only agony in excess: My mother, with her hand to her head in distress Watching with cold eyes as you screamed hate At your small daughters who were upset and irate
There were three of us, all planned to run away So one day we may finally have a day Where we wouldn’t have to endure The torment of your words, which you were sure
Would make me and my sisters the perfect daughter My mother was a cold mother, you were a worse father.