Home

Home,
Mother worked as a charwoman,
Father worked in a factory.
Home,
There was no place to be alone,
There were beans to eat,
Home - that was a dirty little street.
And when I was fourteen
I drew chalk hearts with her name in them on school walls,
And when I looked up to the hill,
To the house were she lived
Somehow I felt there is no way up.

She
Was that kind of girl
Livin' in better streets,
She
Was that kind of girl
Sleepin' in satin sheets,
She looked like a queen.
And when she came to the ball
Wearing a white silk gown all the lights seemed to fade
And when I saw that guy at her side,
I knew no one will ever take the way down
Of his own free will.
She
Was that kind of girl
Dying in satin sheets.

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