Martina

I can see Martina as a child of three



In the sad seclusion of her nursery



Go outside, Martina, go outside and play



Never speak, Martina, put your toys away



So her days were loveless and her nights the same



When she cried for someone, no one ever came



Is it any wonder that her eyes grew cold?



That she loved nobody and her young heart grew old



All the children crying from the age of three



Grow to be Martina's and me