Walking Me Home

Theres an old, old man
How proud he stands and takes her hand in his
And his hands are worn, but he shuffles on and whispers I am here
For all my youth, I'll tell the truth
I'm jealous of her smile
The hand she holds
The love she knows
Their steps so much in time
And to know,
He walking home

Now there's a girl so small
No weight at all
Lying still in that white room
A mother cries
And dries her eyes
This goodbye has come too soon
She holds her hand
That tiny hand
That once wrapped round her thumb
She whispers clear
Let go, I'm here
I'm with you my own, my one
And she knows
She's walking her home

Now I sit and stare at these pages here
And tears roll down my face
Though I sit alone in this tiny home
Their love it fills this place
For I've known great love, been pushed, been shoved
But landed soft and safe
For kind hands, kind eyes have walked beside
And held me with such grace
That I know
They've been walking me home