A baby died when it was borne
Her face was white and blue and always ignored
Her eyes were squinting as if in pain
She’s works on corners and has no name
Her hair is blond and the roots are black
She dies every morning when the sun comes back
It’s the only thing that ever has for her
She lives in the rooms that say please don’t disturb

And one day she woke up to a man knocking on her door
He said she no longer had to work anymore
She was free from hell and free from nothing
He touched her hand and she woke up crying
The tears they fell like rain but her husband heard them falling
And he kissed her on the lips and she cried there even harder
She thought she lived a dream, but she’s just a baby martyr

She was born into death and lived in sadness
Oh what a melancholy gladness
She had this in her soul

The hell she lived was meant to compensate
For the heaven she received
But she didn’t realize that she was always really dead
And she never really lived her life; it was always just a dream
She died and was forgotten and then left there on the floor
Why was she ever born?