I rode a bus the other day
And I heard a woman say
I went to see the doctor
And wondered what he’d say
He smiled and wrote a prescription
To fill another pill
I asked if they were costly, he said they’d cost a bit
I said then I can’t get them
The cost would make me ill
I take a pill to wake me up
Another to help me sleep
A pill to kill my appetite
And one to make me eat
One to cause the skinny thing, or.
make my fat cheeks glow
Oh! What happened to the day
When we were so eager to go
And we didn’t need a pill
we could just--get–up--and go
There are ghosts that walk the hallways of my mind
Precious ghosts that still reach out for me
Ghosts that I still hold as treasures of the days that used to be
Brought in through doors of memory
I hold your hand and walk beside you in the hallways of my mind
I hear your footsteps as you grow
I feel your baby fingers as they curl around my heart
memories in a room that I still know
Memories will live forever in my mind
and give me one more day to spend with you
what will I do when I never more can hold you
as I walk these hallways in my mind
How long is forever, can you tell me?
Will these ghosts leave more footprints on my heart?
what will I do if I never more can hold you
and your wraith leaves no footprints on my heart.
What color were the lips
that blew the breath of life in me when mine was gone?
What color was the hand that held to mine?
What color were the arms that lifted me
and carried me from harm?
What color? What shade of white, red, yellow or brown?
In my time of desperation, my baby buried ‘neath debris
What color were the hands that worked and finally set him free?
That lifted him and ran for help, tears streaming down his face,
I don’t remember now, his color or his race.
What color were the hands that held to mine in prayer?
And gave the precious comfort of knowing he was there.
He went into that burning hell.
Where other’s screamed in pain, but
I do not know if he came out again.
When I try to remember him, I cannot see his face.
But now I know he was all men, all colors, shade and race.
He went back into that place of death
From where he rescued me,
To find that screaming voice of pain
And work to set it free.
Happy Birthday Mary!