Open up a thick brown wooden door To clean out everything that’s on the cutting room floor I left not knowing what I believed in anymore Spat out into a white washed corridor That smothers all the truth in its walls Like we’re just human after all Not ashamed, not ashamed, that’s my mother Even if there’s not much to recover Not ashamed, not ashamed, that’s my mother Even if there’s not much to recover Take down every single photograph Bury and recess as much of the past But the upstairs light still shouts Please come back Not ashamed, not ashamed, that’s my mother Even if there’s not much to recover Not ashamed, not ashamed, that’s my mother Even if there’s not much to recover