Behind closed doors,
Teardrops sadly sing.
Each demands more;
Each nurses broken wings.
Little hearts beat quickly
Like birds wasting in their cages.
Old souls speak thickly,
Wishing their curled fingers could turn the pages.
Time is fast in moving slowly
And moments pass quickly while sitting frozen.
Little voices sing so lowly
And wish better days would closen.
Broken homes cry out into the rain
With voices ringing in woe.
Storms billow and call down pain
While death whispers and reigns over snow.
It all starts behind closed doors
With the songs that teardrops sing.
We'll always demand more
As we nurse our broken wings.