| Sitting alone in an old rocking chair
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| I saw an old mother with silvery hair
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| She seemed so neglected by those who should care
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| Rocking alone in an old rocking chair
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| Her hands were all callused and wrinkled and old
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| A life of hard work was the story they told
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| And I thought of angels as I saw her there
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| Rocking alone in an old rocking chair
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| Bless her old heart, do you think she’d complain
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| Though life has been bitter she’d live it again
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| And carry that cross that is more than her share
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| Rocking alone in an old rocking chair
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| It wouldn’t take much just to gladden her heart
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| Just some small remembrance on somebody’s part
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| A letter would brighten her empty life there
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| Rocking alone in an old rocking chair
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| I look at her and I think «What a shame»
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| The ones who forgot her she loves just the same
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| And I think of angels as I see her there
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| Rocking alone in an old rocking chair |