A mother smothers her baby With a pillow Living in an old house With boarded up windows A victim buried in A fetal position A mother left behind a letter She had written I wonder who I'd be If all these bad things Didn't happen to me I must be The Virgin Mary To create a son Who will suffer so much Her body was found Under a bridge She was recognised As Susan Smith Found her rusty car At the botton of a lake Her children's bodies inside But their souls in Heaven Why'd you do this to me I was your baby You made me You made me You made me You made me You made me You made me