I am six years old in the back of my mother's car And I will be seven in December She will be gone by the beginning of next spring And I will be left to remember To remember I ask my little questions and she laughs a little laugh But she won't tell me where we're going She looks in my eyes with her eyes in the mirror And says, "Some things you're better off not knowing" Not knowing But I don't know what her voice sounds like I don't know what her skin feels like I only know what it might feel like When a mother holds her daughter When that mother knows she's leaving this life Leaving this life She's left with that reflection of me at six years old And I have her eyes in the mirror Well, she and I, we are defined by what we have lost Don't you wonder whose loss is dearer? Dearer She doesn't know what my voice sounds like She doesn't know what my skin feels like And I only know what it might feel like When a mother holds her daughter When that mother knows she's leaving this life Leaving this life And I don't know what her voice sounds like And I don't know what her skin feels like I only know what it might feel like When a mother holds her daughter When that mother knows she's leaving this life Leaving this life Leaving this life Leaving this life Leaving this life