The Passing Widow

She made plans of things to do
When he was healed, they’d get through They planned to sail the oceans blue
To dreams they’d hold
A life that meant the world to her Was taken by what might occur
In any living skin or fur
The young and old
So she gathered up her pack Attached a little sleeping shack To jog around the
world and back A statement of her love
What had she embarked upon? Through rugged hills and roads so long Perhaps he
would be cheering on From a world above
Give a hand to the passing widow She runs, far from her home
Going strong, as beautiful as ever, to show the world they’re not alone
Winter ice and summer suns
Bears and wolves and men with guns
Through the thick and thin she runs to ease the pain
Just a wagon, pulled by rope
In which to rest and dream and hope that she would nd the strength to cope and
bring home her campaign
Give a hand to the passing widow She runs, far from her home
Going strong, as beautiful as ever, to show the world they’re not alone
Now her bones are crumbling too Used to nd a brighter view
Of life without the one she knew and loved so well
She bears a message to us all
We hold the net to catch our fall Keeping strong and standing tall in deeds and
words we tell
So, give a hand to the passing widow She runs, far from her home
Going strong, as beautiful as ever She shows us all, we’re not alone