As The Footsteps Die Out Forever

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