The Portrait - The Damned

amanda mcbroom-the portrait
there's a picture in a silver frame hanging dusty on my wall.
and two people with their eyes the same holding daisies, i recall.
and the baby in the sailor dress and the pigtails - that was me.
and the other was my mother on our easter by the sea.
people tell me that i'm just like her and i wonder what they see.
she was lady, lace and cameo, not the gypsy, that is me.
she spent her evenings making poetry, i spend my nights making time.
and i wonder, am i living partly her dreams, partly mine.
what would she think of the too many men
the lies i get lost in, again and again
the tears in the morning, the booze and the blues in the night.
it's been years now since i've seen her face, heard her footsteps on the stair,
but just lately in my dreams at night,
i will call her and she's there
looking pretty like she used to before time and tears tore her apart.and she tells me that she loves me then she leaves me in the dark.
mama don't leave me, mama don't go.
you know the answers to all i don't know.
my dreams come up empty and my hearts lying dead on the floor.
mama don't leave me, mama please stay.
mama i need you to show me the way.
i'm lost and i'm lonely and i can't find my way anymore.
mama -- mama