It is growing in your head, sprouting like a flower
The thing that took our mother, that lush October hour
In your head or around your bone
The thing that left us all alone
You have always lead bravely
I have only to tread gravely
No leader am I
No warrior anymore
My eyes are too world-weary
My heart is too sore
And I won't make it if you go
But I must live on I know
you will need me to look over them
But Big Sister...
Who will look out for me?
