Seven (CH) - Lisa

Rain pours down on the small cottage in the forrest,
Wind rattles the windows.
Three rooms, a kitchen and a garden,
with potatoes and carrots.
In the morning Lisa awakes in a scent
Of yesterday's meal.
Does anybody wonder how does Lisa feel...


Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone...?


The steam of the bread rises up from the small chimney.
Lisa has pale thin skin,
Black hair, a brown knee-length dress,
Covers her tired and meek body...
The worm fingers are black from the oven,
And the palms are witheres by the garden.
Does anybody wonder how does Lisa feel...


Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone...?

Lisa cooks, cleans,
Potters around, sleeps and cries.
Nobody knows she exists,
Only the wind enters her house.
Lisa is alone, must that be or where does belong
In Lisa's world?


Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone? I don't know,
Why is Lisa so alone...?
Why is Lisa so alone...?
Why is Lisa so alone...?
Why is Lisa so alone...?