| She draped herself in widow weeds
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| Veil of black and buttoned sleeves
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| Hid her face from the world
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| A shadow where once had been a girl
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| Her husband of past twenty years
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| Had passed away leaving her in tears
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| Heart full of the future’s fears
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| She kneels beside his grave
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| Where should be colour every day
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| Just widow weeds, her friends all say
|
| «Please stop your tears and throw away
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| Those widow weeds of black and grey»
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| Then she did wail a chilling sound
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| Beat her fists and hit the ground
|
| She moaned his name, she pulled her hair
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| She chanted verse and muttered prayer
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| How could a man so just, so good
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| Leave her a widow like he could
|
| Where should be colour every day
|
| Just widow weeds, her friends all say
|
| «Please stop your tears and throw away
|
| Those widow weeds of black and grey»
|
| And deep within chador of lace
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| The deep etched sorrow on her face
|
| This Madonna in her cowl of grief
|
| Subservient in her belief
|
| Then came the reading of the will
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| Grief had hold within her still
|
| But unable to believe her ears
|
| She stopped her sobbing, halted tears
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| Not a penny, not a pound
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| No provision to be found
|
| Not a thought of recognition
|
| The will was read with cold precision
|
| Anger jumped up in her breast
|
| Well maybe this was for the best
|
| Even as the will was blessed
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| She tore away her veil
|
| Tears of rage to tears of joy
|
| No more grief from Death’s envoy
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| No more weeping, gnashing teeth
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| No more prostrate with grief
|
| She thought he loved her
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| So sure he loved her
|
| She thought he loved her
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| So sure he loved her
|
| But all his treasure all his wealth
|
| Just signify love for himself
|
| Just signify love for himself
|
| The chador fell unto the earth
|
| Witness a woman’s rebirth
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| Witness a woman’s rebirth
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| She exorcised Grief’s ugly demon
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| With a new found sense of freedom
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| Where should be colour every day
|
| Just widow weeds, now she can say
|
| She stopped her tears and threw away
|
| Those widow weeds of black and grey |