The Portrait

My mother was obsessed by evil jealousy

She didn't want nobody to even look at molly

She kept me locked up in this attic 'till I died

Only 4 years old, my story left untold

Oh Molly... oh Molly

♪

Mother was struck by this infallible idea

If she could paint my portrait I would remain immortal

And I could hang downstairs above the fireplace

A little girl in lace, not a single trace of crime

♪

Each day and night she worked and autumn turned to spring

For every stroke she painted a little life was ended

At last I felt so weak I could not even speak

But in that fatal portrait my spirit came to life again

♪

Oh Molly

♪

That night i made the portrait speak in evil tongue

You're gonna go beyond too, may pain and death bestow you

She grabbed a book and spoke aloud an ancient rhyme

While she burned the portrait in the candle of fate

Oh Molly

♪

I've gotta se ma.