<Brady, Paul> page <Hooba Dooba> album page |
Mother And SonShe dreams of pencil gownsAn orchard in the spring A house in its own grounds The joys that love should bring Three miles to school each day A teacher to her trade Rules to be obeyed His world a melody On every street in town No game, no boyish chant Can match his secret sound Each time that she draws near He reaches for her glance Partners in the family dance Mother and son Mother and son Who can foretell The mystery to come? Maybe a two-step on a star Or a long road in shadow Caught in a web by destiny spun Nowhere to run From mother and son Her dreams grow dimmer now The years have claimed their toll A child once more, she waits For peace of mind to fall He leans to comfort her And catches by surprise The stranger in his mother's eyes Mother and son Mother and son Who can ordain The promise to come? Maybe a curtain-call bouquet Or a garland of sorrow Caught in a web by destiny spun Tied to the beat of the ancestral drum Nowhere to run From mother and son Mother and son |