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Maybe Things Will Make Sense When We're Grown

I was young and so were you
you felt shy and I did too
When we held hands beneath the swings
You laughed and said you wanted to marry me
We found this bird under the slide;
a missing wing and a missing life
We buried him and wondered
why do helpless creatures have to die sometimes?
Maybe this will make sense when we’re grown
 - I hope so

Children grow up as children do
I grew up too and I married you
We picked the rice out of your hair
that two years later wasn’t there
By hospital beds and in waiting rooms
we'd play cards and I would pray with you
That God would one day grant permission
to move your illness to remission 
Maybe this will make sense when we’re old
- I don't think so

Then you died and I grew old 
I tried to come up with my own routine of living without you
It went fine for a year or two. 
But then I died, for I’d grown old
I was laid beside you, cold by cold and side by side
You and I - just the way we’d been in life for so long
Maybe things all make sense when you’re gone
Maybe nothing ever makes sense at all
Maybe things will make sense when we're grown
Maybe nothing ever makes sense at all
 – I kind of think so

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