| Weaver of life, let me look and see
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| The pattern of my life gone by,
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| Shown on your tapestry.
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| Just for one second, one glance upon your loom
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| The flower of my childhood could have fit within this room
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| Does it of my youth show, tears of yesterday?
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| Broken hearts, within a heart, as love first came my way.
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| Do the lifeline patterns change as I became a man
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| An added aura untold blend as I asked for her hand.
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| Did your golden needle sew it, thread virginial white
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| As long as we embrace as one upon our wedding night.
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| Did you capture all the joys the birth of our first son?
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| The happiness of family made a brother for the one.
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| The growing of the brothers, the manliness that grew
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| is it there in detail? |
| Is it their to view?
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| Do the sparks of life grow bright as one by one they wed?
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| To live as fathers, husbands, apart from lives they’ve led.
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| Are my lover’s threads cut off when aged she laid to rest
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| My sorrow blacking out a space upon thou woven crest
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| A gathering for the last time as her coffin slowly lain
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| Ash to ashes, dust to dust, one day we will regain.
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| Does it show, does it swipe, grandchildren on my knee
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| But only hearing laughter when age took my sight from me.
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| Lastly through these last few years of loneliness maybe
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| Does it by sight a shooting star fade from your tapestry.
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| Wait there in the distance, over your loom I think I see
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| Could it be that after all my prayers you’ve answered me?
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| After days of wondering I see the reason why.
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| You kept it to this minute, for I’m about to die.
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| Weaver of life,
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| At last now I can see
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| The patterns of my life gone by, shown on your tapestry. |