Red is my favorite color,
Red like your mother's eyes after a while,
Of crying about how you don't love her.
She says, I know I don't deserve supervised sight of her
But each day becomes a blur without my daughter.

Fall is my favorite season,
Like fall into reasoning why you crashed from on high
She says, why is my life so uneven?
And what I have done right but given you your life
If after I let you on into that bar room.
Into that bar room.

Yes is my favorite answer
I took a dancer home,
She felt so alone.
We stayed up all night in the kitchen
Do my dishes on an October dawn,
She said I know it's easy to have me
But I have seen some things that I can not even tell to my family pictures.
And I'm full of fictions and fucking addictions
And I miss my mother.

She'll never know I could never forget her.
If I could write her a letter I'd try, with every line
To say she still remembers your touch
And I know it's not much,
I know it's not much,
I know that it's not much but you still haven't lost her.
You still haven't lost her.
Stil haven't lost her.
You still haven't lost her.
Not yet.