Each day she sits in her chair by the window

looking out on her world through the curtains of lace.

She wasn't always this frail, grey haired lady

her life's story etched on each line of her face.

On the bureau beside her a faded old photo

in a brown wooden frame with a border of gold,

a handsome young soldier, his bride stands beside

him her proud young man destined to never grow old.

There's a small wooden box that she keeps on the bureau

she opens the lid and the tune starts to play.

As she takes out some letters she smiles and remembers

this tune that they danced to on their wedding day.

As she opens the letters and reads each one over

she's transported back to the time they were new,

then she carefully replaces each precious memory,

and ties them back up in their ribbon of blue.

Today as she looks out a young girl is passing

her face seems familiar as she skips down the street.

She laughs and she smiles in the warm Summer sun

so eager, her handsome young soldier to meet.

They pause for a while and talk in the sunshine,

the old lady smiles as she watches them there,

then a breeze gently blows in from the open window,

and the sound and the scene float away on the air.

R. Langridge                           back to lyrics                © Langsongs 2001