hey little girl, I'm the voice in your head
I'm the portrait that hangs on the wall
I'm the treasure inside
down the alley she goes...
hush, and don't tell anyone
for the road, take a biscuit
and listen politely to what I'm about to tell
down the alley she goes...
go, precious queen
you mean everything to mum and dad
they'll be sad when you're gone
but your target is higher
down the alley she goes...
look at the stairs, and whatever they mean
it's a frightening thing to look up to, but it is your task
in the alley...
and then she walks
on the telephone wire
to have her little chat with god
so far, so good, I am your friend
and if you get scared, just sing
lala, lala, lala
one cannot make omelets without breaking eggs
and the aimless are useless
so go on and fight for your dreams
in the alley...
hey little girl, are the voices still there?
do you hear them from nowhere?
the set up was mean, filial piety in the alley
she falls, her final way to heaven