| Monday, I saw you smile
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| And then Tuesday
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| We talked awhile
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| By Wednesday something’s wrong
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| By weekend, you were gone
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| Thursday, I heard she strayed
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| And by Friday
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| When she got paid
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| She smoked it all away
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| Left ashes, for Saturday
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| We all dig our own way
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| We might find it tough to say
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| But this life’s a fragile thing
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| So goodbye, my dear old friend
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| Last Christmas, your daughter smiled
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| Hugged and kissed us
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| But you cashed it in
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| When the New Year’s ball had dropped
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| My hope died, as we watched the clock
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| We all dig our own way
|
| We might find it tough to say
|
| But this life’s a fragile thing
|
| So goodbye, my dear old friend
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| It’s all quiet on Mother’s Day
|
| Your baby’s grown and gone away
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| It’s all quiet on Mother’s Day
|
| A forgotten mid-June gray
|
| We all dig our own way
|
| We all find it hard to say
|
| But this life’s a fragile thing
|
| So goodbye, my dear old friend
|
| It’s all quiet on Mother’s Day
|
| Your baby’s grown and gone away
|
| It’s all quiet on Mother’s Day
|
| A forgotten mid-June gray |