She was diagnosed on a Friday,
the kids were almost home,
the kids were on their way back home from school,
lying face down in the gutter
of unaccomplished dreams and broken memories of things to come,
"Sorry ma'am, I really am. I had to break the news.
I had to make the phone call to tell you that you're due,
you know where,
I'll tell you when,
and I suggest you start living these next three weeks, the best way that you can."
[chorus?]
Every night for three long weeks,
she'd roam the hallways half asleep
and as the footsteps fade away
in my mind, I could swear, I could swear, I heard her say:
"Don't wait for me,
I've got a lot to do
I've got a lot to be
and in the end maybe I'll see you there."
Lost her strength on a saturday.
Spent the day in bed.
Yeah, I'm fine, it's just the flu she said
with a smile, but when they turned their backs,
the tears would flow.
She knew she only
had a while to live
to breathe
to see
to be
to bleed
to stand on her own two weakened feet
"and so I pray everyday: don't take my mother away"
and in the end maybe i'll see you there.
You know i'll see you there
and in the end i'll see you there
