she takes the backroad and the lanepast the school that has not changedin all this timeshe thinks of when the boy was youngall the battles she had wonjust to give him lifethat manshe loved that manfor all his lifebut now we meet to take in flowersand only God knows why for what's the use in pressing palmswhen children fade in mother's armsit's a cruel worldwe've so much to loseand what we have to learn, we rarely choose so if it's God who took her sonher cannot be the one living in her mind take care my love, she saiddon't think that God is deadtake care my love, she saidyou have been loved if I was weak, forgive mebut I was terrifiedyou brushed my eyes with angels wings, full of lovethe kind that makes devils cryso these daysmy life has changedand I'll be finebut she just sits and counts the hourssearching for her crime so what's the use of pressing palmsif you won't keep such love from harmit's a cruel worldwe've so much to proveand heaven help the ones who wait for you well I've no daughters, I've no sonsguess I'm the only oneliving in my life take care my love, he saiddon't think that God is deadtake care my love, he saidyou have been loved