In my childhood I thought of you as queen
You were the ground under my feet, what made life pass with ease
So then why couldn’t you respond to my pleading letters
The ones when I was six, mailing you goodnight kisses
Did they get lost in the paperwork or left in the corner
But I guess they could wait, first came the profits folder.
Why was it so hard for you to sit down and listen
You felt like you had to always hover in the distance