Till the mourning comes

She won't live too long if she won't change her ways

She's on her knees most days

But she's not giving praise

Not to Him, anyway

Unless that him was lowercase

Big sister says that's just how she was raised

And all this running round has her in a daze

Then Little sister says: Get off my case.

Yet the words she tastes leaves tears you could trace running down her pretty face

But all the empty wrappers in the trashcan won't hold your hand when you're late

And the strangers coming to and from your place won't participate in parents' day

But anyway

All some kids ever get is a name

It's what remains when their daddy went away

That and a pain they can't  quite articulate

But anyway

Lies grow old when told in the comfort of her bed

They escaped from her head

Then ran rampant like rumors spread

Till mourning comes on the morning she joins the dead

Then all that's left is a big sister's regret

But anyway