Description

She dreams of pencil gowns,
An orchard in the spring
A house in its own grounds
The joys that love should bring
Three miles to school each day
A teacher to her trade…
Rules to be obeyed.

His world a melody
On every street in town
No game, no boyish chant
Can match his secret sound
Each time that she draws near
He reaches for her glance
Partners in the family dance

Mother and son,
Mother and son…
Who can foretell
The mystery to come?
Maybe a two-step on a star
Or a long road in shadow
Caught in a web by destiny spun
Nowhere to run
From mother and son

Her dreams grow dimmer now
The years have claimed their toll
A child once more, she waits
For peace of mind to fall
He leans to comfort her
And catches by surprise
The stranger in his mother’s eyes

Mother and son
Mother and son
Who can ordain
The promise to come?
Maybe a curtain-call bouquet
Or a garland of sorrow
Caught in a web by destiny spun
Tied to the beat of the ancestral drum
Nowhere to run
From mother and son
Mother and Son