They say, the past is done with,
the end of some old song;
that's tossed into the trash bin,
and now, does not belong.
They say, the past will bring you down,
it's better, left alone;
but there are things I can't forget,
some things I can't condone.
They say, it's buried in the brain,
down deeply in the mind;
let's forge on to tomorrow,
they're trying to be kind.
They say, that's it's all over,
it's just a memory;
but it's an image planted,
and I cannot break free.
They say, the past is final,
but my dead child still remains;
I still hurt inside that past,
and I cannot still the pains.