mabel walsh - cheryl frances-hoad lyrics
mabel walsh sits by the door
comfortable in her century’s skin
strong voice in the yorkshire air
memories bringing back again
the gentle man, his smiling face;
loading a truck then dropped down dead
forgotten in loud history’s noise
as life goes by and takes no heed
the statement’s tragicomic, all
those d-d-d’s as down he goes
but how the moment lingers still
in all the movements of her face
how shrapnel, smaller than a thought
had made his heart stop there and then
now mabel sits there in the light
and dreams about what might have been:
their times together through the years
their children growing strong and tall
a picnic in a moorland breeze
he was standing there. and then he fell
the war locked up so many rooms
and left them just as they once were
the ticking clock, the hourly chimes
struck silent by that b-st-rd war
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