Her father produced a misfortunate mind able to seduce and shine
tables with gents for crime in atmospheres consumed by wine.
Her presence; the essence of love and passion combined,
heaven couldn't define how her voice became so sweet and devine.
(It had to be heard.)
Moist when needed and kind for demons before angels was sacred,
a choice she made in Heden where flames engulfed all of her hatred.
(Her life was absurd.)
Czechoslovakia, '41,
the story gives me shivers,
her sobbing combined could recreate egyptian rivers.
She was born in the source of cold sweat and fears,
a childhood of evil force, abuse and endless tears.
How her daddy woke her up in her early years,
to share her innocence with respected peers.
nazis, czechs and mobsters side by side,
laughed, drinked and fucked her far and wide.
Even Kurt Daluege was there to ''try'' the whore,
her father had the best parties in the time of war.
All she did during the day was to sing in her room,
the sorrow in her voice whispered of torture and doom.
At fourteen she decided to accept her fate,
kept singing and hoped it would be her escape.
1971,
thirty years had passed and the war is over,
no more jews gets gassed, but her abuse was covered.
No-one knew her fate except her useless mother,
now the posters tease dudes that used to fuck her.
You can see her fathers shoes untied on the cover-art,
she escaped to the states at twenty, now she shares a lovers heart.
Her father died by cancer a few years ago,
it gave her peace, but not enough to grow.
Her mental health is healing incredibly slow,
so she figured it might be time to let some of it go.
She wrote a musical of her life and cried heavily after,
got a friend to pretend he wrote it and named it;
''I never sang for my father.''