"My Old Dutch"
The mantle clock rings the quarter hour
They sit by the fire place
in easy chairs
Just two.
His voice is soft
Just enough for her to hear
He sings an old, old song
skipping words
humming now and then
A song that's been their own
since courtship days
"My Old Dutch"
He sings to her, his Old Sweetheart.
In her mind she smiles to him
Scenes turn over gently
tumbling her pleasures.
He sings softly
her tears collect.
The loving is enough for now
Their song brings everything.