She sings a broken tune,
An old song that many know.
A song of loss, pain and death,
Many don't understand her.
They don't understand,
The long low sway
Of her black soul.

She sings to forget,
The father she lost,
The brother who has abandoned her,
The sister who knows despises her
And the mother who knows no love.
She sings to forget.

She now understand,
Why every morning,
At first light the black bird
Sings her tune.
For nothing is worse than remembering pain.