My mother was obsessed by evil jealousy She didn't want nobody to even look at Molly She kept me locked up in this attic 'till I died Only four years old, my story left untold Oh Molly...Oh Molly
Mother was struck by this infallible idea If she could paint my portrait I would remain immortal And I could hang downstairs above the fireplace A little girl in lace, not a single trace of crime
Each day and night she worked and autumn turned to spring For every stroke she painted a little life was ended At last I felt so weak I could not even speak But in that fatal portrait my spirit came to lfe again
Oh Molly
That night I made the portrait speak in evil tongue: You're gonna go beyond too, may pain and death bestow you She grabbed a book and spoke aloud an ancient rhyme While she burned the portrait in the candle of fate
Oh Molly
I've Gotta Se Ma!!!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
