There, against the wall
There's a picture
Do you recognise her at all?

Her hair full of body
Her face full of Joy
She sits there, 
On the swing

Knowing nothing but Love and Joy
She was once the Helen of Troy, 
All wanted to be her
and see her beautifull face, 
Filled with joy...

Where did all that go?
How did she become the person next to me?
Now, when you look at her...
You see the marks that life has made
Her foice sings a song filled with pain and hate
Her eyes show no life...

Does she really live?
Or does she go thru every day wishing her life away?
She doesn't even try to hide her pain
She doesn't care anymore...
Why should she fight if there's nothing to fight for?

Is this the end of the game?
The game of life and pain...