Slowly they go, nbut there’s fault lines for Madeline, non a journey from school but she looks like she may fly, nmore to this than a will to explore, n‘please don’t go, you won’t make it, I’m sure.’ nnThe sun sets, the earth shakes now,nI feel miles to go, nwarm ground, tread lightly,nI don't want you to go.nnWell, their mothers say they’ll live to see another day, nand they paint in lines a new portrait of Madeline.nAnd in painted red, na sign that says ‘my daughter’s dead’, nmy earthquakes, she said, are coming down. nnWake up.nnPlaying by rule, nshe had, guidelines from old times,ndown roman roads like she’s fighting for Cataline, nso alone; but its good for the soul. n‘Come Seacoal, we have miles to go.’ nnThe sun sets, the earth shakes now,nI feel miles to go, nwarm ground, tread lightly,nI don't want you to go.nnAnd their mothers say they’ll live to see another day, nand they paint in lines a new portrait of Madeline.nAnd in painted red, na sign that says ‘my daughter’s dead’, nmy earthquakes, she said, are coming down. nnHer expectations were getting her down, nwhen all that she wanted was home in the ground, nwhen tears start to drop on her dreams for the day, nthe earth seems to open and drag her away. nWhen she falls down the hole, nthere’s a big role/ll for Seacoal, nas they fly in the air,nand she grasps what she can’t hold. nIn her bag there were letters for home; n‘it’s my plan to throw myself down a hole.’ nnWell, their mothers say they’ll live to see another day, nand they paint in lines a new portrait of Madeline.nAnd in painted red, na sign that says ‘my daughter’s dead’, nmy earthquakes, she said, are coming down.