She was 15
She was 15 when she left for good.
A one up for the death toll in the hood.
Mother tried to warn her that he was no good.
A fleeting moment became the end for her.
It was a quarter past dawn when he phoned her that night.
A little ways away did she know wrong from right.
And she brushed past mother, fading from the light.
Captured by his wicked gaze and lure.
She was only a child, a gift from God above.
Her mother raised her out of all her care and love.
What gives this boy the right to take it all
Away from this child who's now just dead and gone?
Blinking back the tears as she fleeted from his grasp.
The last image remains her shadow and her back.
Her mother sits beside a bed of white.
Crying, pleading, praying for her only light.
The driver was saw a fleeting golden braid.
Next second a face on his window pane.
Not enough time to brake and save the girl.
Leave it all up for the judge to decide.
She was only a child, a gift from God above.
Her mother raised her out of all her care and love.
What gives this boy the right to take it all
Away from this child who's now just dead and gone?
She was only a child, a gift from God above.
Her mother raised her out of all her care and love.
What gives this boy the right to take it all
Away from this child who's now just dead and gone?
What gives the right for us to judge this boy
Ways away did he know wrong from right.
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