Rain was the only music there
On that dark and hopeless night;
She held him, sitting on the stair,
Saying, “It’ll be alright,”
But she was scared as much as he.
She wondered how the night could be
So strange, so cold and oh so bare.
Her son’s tears, they hit the floor.
As he whispered out his fears.
The terror touched her at the core,
And she remembered better years.
He trembled so hard in her arms,
Gone and lost were his sweet charms.
He cried so long his eyes were sore.
She forced a smile and began to sing
Of a far-off land hid in the sky,
Where everyone and everything
Never had the urge to cry.
She sung of a Man who would give him joy,
Lots of love and maybe a toy.
This Man, a peasant, but a King.
Her son, he smiled as he thought
Of this man of which she sang.
Perhaps this One Man might just not
Shoot Daddy down with a big “Bang!”
And perhaps this Man would just show grace,
Showing Dad his proper place,
Filled with the love he so hard sought.
Her son found sleep in her embrace,
Dreaming of a better place,
Where all the streets are made of gold;
And where no love is bought or sold.
Where The King wears a golden crown,
And all the subjects will bow down.
Where the little boy at last finds peace,
Where all the sadness will just cease.