Standing at the mirror
I question what I see
Through unblinking eyes it’s hard to
Make myself believe
What’s the use in crying when it just produces tears?

Chorus:
I came to find my calling
And I made it on my own
So clear some space at the table, Mamma
Mamma, I’m coming home

Staring at a picture
Remembering the pose
How I’d like to play it all back
Knowing how it goes
What’s the use in crying when you can’t retrace the years?

Chorus

Chorus