Rosemary I’ve almost forgotten your name
The tears on my face they don’t burn quite the same
And I look in the mirror and your reflection’s not there
Just the daughter of a man and a cold hard stare

Rosemary my desire to hold you is deep
And it keeps me from living and it keeps me from sleep
Am I holding on so tight that my fingers might bleed
If I let go of you now will you let go of me
—Nina Nastasia