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Busted wire and the tattered tongue |
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Songs she wrote but she never sung |
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Quiet eve of another year |
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She'll soon forget |
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Her blackened lungs from the cigarettes |
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Her mother smoke' when her father left |
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She sings a song in this side of town |
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To change her mind |
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And she said \"'n' I have hope for others |
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Father, I have given up |
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'Cause I have hope for others |
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Father, I--I have given up\" |
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Quart' to ten in the room below |
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Busted wares suppose they'll need to know |
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Close her eyes and hums a song |
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That made her smile |
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Grabs a note and reads aloud |
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\"The passion new'd make a mother proud |
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I miss you so, it seems we all much going on\" |
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Cause she wrote \"I have hope for others |
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But Mother, I must go alone |
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Yes, I have hope for others |
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Mother, I-I have given up.\" |
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Well I've, I've given up |
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Well I, I, I, I have given up |
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Yeah, I've given up |
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My love, my God, I've given up |
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In my heart, in my heart, in my heart, |
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In my heart, in my heart, in my heart |
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I have, I have given up |
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In my heart, in my heart, in my heart, |
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in my heart, in my heart, In my heart |
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I have, I have given up |
