Heard a sound the other day, a sublime sound
Nothing but in-keeping with the way of my particular rhyme
A God-given chime like no other, although always at the back of your mind, terribly sad to hear of a depressed mother
You need to be better than good, to be able to go with the flow, all too prepared to drag those kicking and screaming demons on out of her, edit all too intently those slurred words owing to what may just be the wrong kind of medication
My God, how much this woman, minus any such shackles, is no less than an outright, not just a fickle overnight sensation
Stand your ground and come back to me, Mom