Mother stares at the empty bed, still haunted by the words her daughter said:
"I'm leaving 'cause nobody understands the anger that's inside of me; sometimes it's more than I can comprehend."
Her father drives down the boulevard; he shows her picture to the corner crowd,
"Has anyone seen my little girl? - We only want her to come home, we only want to show her how we feel."
Now, now that she's run away, her house is cold and dark, her parents hardly talk,
And she's in a city far away,
She's says she'll never go home, but every night she cries herself to sleep.
She sleeps in the streets, she sleeps in the doorway, sleep with men she doesn't know,
Every once in a while, she thinks about home,
Maybe she'll call tomorrow, maybe she'll call next week, maybe she'll never call.
