My wife is away for a few days, off on one of her junkets
Which leaves me here alone in this house to consider
What life would be like if she didn't return
I look around this empty house and I begin to wonder
Sitting in the living room with the television off
It's lonely when the only sound is the Seth Thomas clock
I know I would miss her smile, her laughter, and her just being there for me
Our walks in the woods, her listening to the cranes when over head
How would I cope if she wasn't here, how would I pick up all the pieces
How would I manager to do the little things I always taken for granted
How would I cope with the day to day things she did for me but seldom thanked
Could I survive knowing each task when I've finished I'm still here alone
How would I cope changing the sheets on the bed we shared
Seeing that mild depression where she used to sleep next to me
How would I cope becoming a bit of a recluse, a hermit in the woods
Just leaving as needed for groceries and such, maybe an occasional meal
How would I cope having become my own warden in a self impose prison
Pacing the halls, walking ten miles, but never leaving the house
My only comfort is knowing that I would lie beside her once more
We will sleep side by side for eternity neath a thick dark green blanket
How would I cope, I really don't know nor do I wish to find out
But the larger question to my little muse is “How would you cope?”
Which leaves me here alone in this house to consider
What life would be like if she didn't return
I look around this empty house and I begin to wonder
Sitting in the living room with the television off
It's lonely when the only sound is the Seth Thomas clock
I know I would miss her smile, her laughter, and her just being there for me
Our walks in the woods, her listening to the cranes when over head
How would I cope if she wasn't here, how would I pick up all the pieces
How would I manager to do the little things I always taken for granted
How would I cope with the day to day things she did for me but seldom thanked
Could I survive knowing each task when I've finished I'm still here alone
How would I cope changing the sheets on the bed we shared
Seeing that mild depression where she used to sleep next to me
How would I cope becoming a bit of a recluse, a hermit in the woods
Just leaving as needed for groceries and such, maybe an occasional meal
How would I cope having become my own warden in a self impose prison
Pacing the halls, walking ten miles, but never leaving the house
My only comfort is knowing that I would lie beside her once more
We will sleep side by side for eternity neath a thick dark green blanket
How would I cope, I really don't know nor do I wish to find out
But the larger question to my little muse is “How would you cope?”