Remember little Miss Mary Jane?
The small girl who sat on the bathroom floor?
She went back for a while, yes, only a while,
and realized she doesn't want to remember no more.
She sat down on the warm air vent,
watched the mirror with clouded eyes.
Everything around her stilled
and for a moment, she almost cried.
The tile was cold on the backs of her legs
and her bare feet slapped tiles grey.
She traced tiny fingers, let every one linger,
through the grout that was stained red that day.
It's funny the rain clouds that sing to us,
the ones that hum out April melodies...
they bring us the rain, remember the pain?
She remembers every moment from February.
The valentine's all got burned in the garbage,
the pink and the red fluttered down...
and that was a long time ago, but sometimes she knows
that the little girl's still around.
Little Miss Mary Jane cried today,
she couldn't help but to crash into the memories...
she got up, and she left, but there's one thing we know..
Little girls don't forget photos of February.
