Black Market Baby
black market baby, a woman on her own
how her broken heart has roamed
sweet darling, born without a home
my mama left me in the arms of another one
black market baby, sold after birth
don't know her country, don't know her worth
rejected before she could crawl
handed over in the streets of Montreal
Torn from the family tree, a gypsy heart rambling free eyes azure as wildflowers, nothing in life is sure
she has no time or date
at whose door shall she wait
Oh mama, I can't hear your heartbeat, I can't hear your heartbeat … Ah the price of freedom, tangled in her hair Oh mama, I can't hear your heartbeat, I can't hear your heartbeat …
This sordid past may have set her back, lacking the love to follow her path but rage and sorrow and hidden street smarts, gave her the strength to follow her heart Ah the price of freedom tangled in her hair
Oh mama, oh mama, I can't hear your heartbeat, I can't hear your heartbeat
Love, Elizabeth
Happy Mother's Day, May 2002