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Momma your pain is from us,
Momma your pain is from the long drive.
Your pain is from being in your Dad's house,
Momma your pain is from painting the ceiling.
Momma your pain is from the lose of your Dad.
Your pain is from the lose of your Mom.
Momma your pain is from the way his barren house's Christmas reef screams,
No one lives here, no one lives here.
When the neighbors drive past they can see the piles boxes, trying to block the door,
When the neighbors walk by, the smell of paint and Diff, equals the smell of absence.
Momma your pain is bad,
Momma your pain is bittersweet.
Momma your pain is that box on the top self.
Your pain was labeled,
Labeled Dearest Phylis.
Your pain was the words on that box.
Your pain was your trembling hand opening the lid.
Momma your pain was the contents,
Momma your pain was her voice on that tape.
Momma that's what got you.
Mommy when I saw your pain I cried with you.
When I saw your tears, fallen feet,
I screamed for your sisters to come,
They came running one by one.
Momma your pain was realizing he loved her.