Young widow take heart
your small child awaits
the gentle touch of her dear mother's hands
she waits for her dad who won't er' return

a dust bowl sorrow blows
between dust and leaves
she scatters her poor husbands ashes
across the field that now lay barren

Young widow take heart
your small child awaits
the gentle touch of her dear mother's hands
she waits for her dad who won't er' return

he worked the telephone lines
bare hands and sweat were his working tools
down a lonesome dirt road
in a small town in Oklahoma
he met his Lord alone and dark

Young widow take heart
your small child awaits
the gentle touch of her dear mother's hands
she waits for her dad who won't er' return

in the fields of alfalfa where the wind made waves
she worked from dust till dawn
making a home for her fatherless child
born from the rements of tears

Young widow take heart
your small child awaits
the gentle touch of her dear mother's hands
she waits for her dad who won't er' return

the sun sets upon an earthen mound
fresh dirt on top holds...
a dream thats laid to rest
and in the wind you can hear
a dirge from a single woman cries

Young widow take heart
your small child awaits
the gentle touch of her dear mother's hands
she waits for her dad who won't er' return

01/29/2007

Posted on 01/29/2007
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