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She keeps holding my hand,
but still asks who I am.
She keeps falling in and out,
of time, our time.
Her heart is steady, going on.
Her hands are doing work they´ve done for so long.
Folding towels, nice and neat,
counting the number of the folded sheets.
She keeps holding my hand,
but still asks who I am.
She keeps falling in and out,
of time, our time.
She´s glimpses of who she used to be.
Smiling politely, offering coffee, talking about the lovely weather.
I was looking out at the pouring rain,
but once again, she sent some sunshine our way.
She keeps holding my hand,
but still asks who I am.
She keeps falling in and out,
of time, our time.
My sister has got a beautiful baby girl.
We went to visit, so that they could meet.
She kept calling the baby a little boy,
caus’ she reminded her, of the son she lost.
She keeps holding my hand,
and keeps asking who I am.
She keeps saying their names,
Prepared to see them again.
