The wind Pounding rain I can't see what's in front of me
I must trust the three feet of yellow line shining up at me
My reality-desolate, but we're all unfortunate
Not like her That's different That's tragedy
Ten minutes - left him there alone
Now nothing is what she's become
Set there by eyes that could not see
Or judge one bad mentality
Sunken eyes Perpetual tears A confirmation of her fears
All is lost it appears that the end is growing near
Unlocked front door Just three months old
No one heard him cry
Since that day she's only suffered
Never pacified