Lydie lit a cigarette today,
Ancient fumbling fingers in her way
From a forty year old coffee cup she sipped a bit of
gin,
Closed her eyes and let the memories in.
She lives in the old place all alone,
Oh Lydie, let him go. the boy is gone,
Her mother struggled as she tore him from her arms,
Oh Lydia, your tears are heaven's rain,
But she never was the same.
A cotton dress and satin shoes,