Sandwiches

Your cold hand was underneath as you slept
We made sandwiches and then they said you’d left
I read words that someone wrote as we cried
And I tried to think of all the times you told me you were tired
You’d be on the phone
Every time we’d get home
And I think I thought you’d be there
Wherever she goes
Wherever she goes
I have tried to recall how your cashmere sweater smelt
I’ve spent countless days recounting your hairspray and how you felt
«Oh, I’ll let you go» is what you’d say to me
And now it’s I that has to let you go to where you have to be
You’d be on the phone
Every time we’d get home
And I think I thought you’d be there
You’d be on the phone
Every time we’d get home
And I think I thought you’d be there
When I think of you a movie-reel of moments plays
We’ll be in the car or after mass on Saturdays
You’ll be walking down the driveway, you’ll be in your chair
You’ll say «See you 'round» or «Say your 'Three'»
And now you’re everywhere
You’d be on the phone
Every time we’d get home
And I think I thought you’d be there
Wherever she goes
(I will meet you there)
Wherever she goes
(I will meet you there)
Wherever she goes
(I will meet you there)
Wherever she goes
(I will meet you there)