There sits an old mother, with silvery hair,

just rocking alone, in an old rocking chair.

She's so neglected, by those who should care,

rocking alone, in her old rocking chair.

She was once a young beauty, with golden blond hair,

years made her old and wrinkled, with no one to share.

She just sits and stares, it's so lonely there,

rocking alone, in her old rocking chair.

Her only son, went to battle, and died in the war

his children have all moved away, so distant and far,

She never hears from them, they don't seem to care,

they've left her, sitting alone, in her old rocking chair.

She has a beautiful, young grand daughter,

with dark raven hair, but she doesn't seem care,

She's so busy with friends, she's just left her there,

rocking alone, in her old rocking chair.

It wouldn't take much, to gladden her heart,

just some small remembrance, on somebody's part.

And, I think of angels, as I see her there,

rocking alone, in her old rocking chair.

Well, I know some children, in an orphan's home,

that would think they owned heaven, if she were their own.

They'ed never be willing, to let her sit there,

just rocking alone, in her old rocking chair.