Alas, her child, you listen to her… For she holds a story about the se… What is behind its placid shore? There’s more, her child, so much,… There is a dreadful thing down the…

She loves to look at old things And remember times gone by; A rhinestone pin, a filled dance c… Or Grandpa’s bow tie. Old photographs, a handkerchief,

They play a game, but they don’t a… They loved once but will they love… They always say that was the last… But do they have the right to draw… They want to love but they can’t,…

Her beautiful Ballerina She sits and admires Pliait 1,2,1,2 Again

Thousands of times Over and over again Expressing his heart and mind Staying out of the summer rain Writing his feelings over and over

Oh Gloomy Death! Knocking on the door Piercing the sinews of her heart Tearing her soul apart Then, beckoning her slowly...

Each morning when she wakes up, She knows that there will be A rose on her kitchen counter, That you have picked for her. She knows many wives get roses,

His love for you is really true, He can’t believe how bad he’s fall… He never thought, he would let his… But that day, he couldn’t do just… Your care, love, and joy.

What has it been for When everything has departed, Friends, lovers, or large sums Of tainted money that colored the… Time and circumstance must be to b…

As she sits here all alone, Thinking of you coming home She wishes the door would open wid… And you would just step inside She has not faced that dreadful

Promenading mountainous hillsides Cascade beautiful pillow of Fall color. Glorious radiating for reflections… Simultaneously demonstrating dance…

A single red rose for you her son Because you’re one today And her heart you still hold, with… As if you were never taken away. She guesses she’s really selfish

Call her back to a time long ago, Before the white man came to her l… A time long ago when buffalo roame… And her freedom knew no bounds. Call her back to a time long ago

Deep in the woods, The snowy, frozen woods, With its beckoning trees, Shrouded with a thick lace of snow… There goes a wind,

That which you have stolen Is in your potent hands. You hold it there securely Not letting a pulse be spared Of the ceaseless ache of love for…