The room at the top of the stairs

So much tragedy etched on her face
Now she sits alone in an old rocking chair,
And nobody cares, in the room at the top of the stairs

In her cupboard that's full of glass jars
Where she keeps the babies that God wouldn't spare,
A secret they share. Nobody knows that they're there

Antiques gathering dust, her grandfather's clock that has long since stopped
Like the visits from daughters who no longer care
She sits in her old rocking chair

So much tragedy etched on her face
Now she sits alone in an old rocking chair,
And nobody cares, in the room at the top of the stairs

And her ghost will return
And her ghost will return
And her ghost will return