Live In Remembrance
So many just plan for tomorrow.
So many just live for today.
Yet I long to live in remembrance
to yesterday's mem'ries this way...
My father, in garage, would be working.
My mother, in kitchen, would bake.
Then I would take turns being with them,
and tried not to make a mistake.
I'd hold the light steady for father
while he reached down under the hood.
The cookie dough mom had me stirring,
from finger to tongue was so good.
They'd take me to church ev'ry Sunday.
I learned all the Bible had taught.
I learned that my soul needed saving
a soul that was already bought.
And Jesus had blessed me so dearly
with parents I didn't deserve.
I learned of their love and devotion
a love that I'd often observe.
Though father did not show emotion
and hugging was not ever done,
He would, at times, play some horseshoes
and never had I ever won.
Now one night while watching home movies,
I saw a lone tear on his eye.
I knew his emotions ran deeper
and in him was greater supply.
My mother was very kind-hearted.
She loved everyone that she met.
And when someone hurt her unfairly,
I never had seen her upset.
Yes, everyone loved my dear mother
and that's how a dear flower grows.
She passed away still helping children
and buried, the finest of rose.
My memories fade with the sunset,
as emptiness sets in again.
My life seems so terribly barren
as loneliness grips me within.
But some things I'll not be forgetting:
two faces that I'll always see,
two lives that I'll always remember,
two parents who loved thankless me.
So many just plan for tomorrow.
So many just live for today.
Yet I long to live in remembrance
to yesterday's mem'ries this way...
So many just live for today.
Yet I long to live in remembrance
to yesterday's mem'ries this way...
My father, in garage, would be working.
My mother, in kitchen, would bake.
Then I would take turns being with them,
and tried not to make a mistake.
I'd hold the light steady for father
while he reached down under the hood.
The cookie dough mom had me stirring,
from finger to tongue was so good.
They'd take me to church ev'ry Sunday.
I learned all the Bible had taught.
I learned that my soul needed saving
a soul that was already bought.
And Jesus had blessed me so dearly
with parents I didn't deserve.
I learned of their love and devotion
a love that I'd often observe.
Though father did not show emotion
and hugging was not ever done,
He would, at times, play some horseshoes
and never had I ever won.
Now one night while watching home movies,
I saw a lone tear on his eye.
I knew his emotions ran deeper
and in him was greater supply.
My mother was very kind-hearted.
She loved everyone that she met.
And when someone hurt her unfairly,
I never had seen her upset.
Yes, everyone loved my dear mother
and that's how a dear flower grows.
She passed away still helping children
and buried, the finest of rose.
My memories fade with the sunset,
as emptiness sets in again.
My life seems so terribly barren
as loneliness grips me within.
But some things I'll not be forgetting:
two faces that I'll always see,
two lives that I'll always remember,
two parents who loved thankless me.
So many just plan for tomorrow.
So many just live for today.
Yet I long to live in remembrance
to yesterday's mem'ries this way...
