You were born in KC, Missouri to a girl who wasn't married After your birth she brought you to the nursery Kissed your head and told you not to worry And then quietly she turned and slipped away
In the elevator her heart began to pound To the rooftop in her slippers and her gown On the edge, she took one last look around Then closed her eyes and pushed away
Speeding toward the ground Through the air without a sound So gracefully
Twelve flights down, nearly naked on the ground Skin and tragedy always attract a crowd So it was when the policeman came around He took more than fifty eyewitness accounts Each one in awe for they'd never seen a girl so sad and beautiful