Standing at the mirror
I question what I see
Through unblinking eyes itís hard to
Make myself believe
Whatís the use in crying when it just produces tears?
I came to find my calling
And I made it on my own
So clear some space at the table, Mamma
Mamma, Iím coming home
Staring at a picture
Remembering the pose
How Iíd like to play it all back
Knowing how it goes
Whatís the use in crying when you canít retrace the years?