MORNINGSIDE - Neil Diamond

-Seq. by Carlos J. Ordás Rodríguez)

Morningside
The old man died
And no one cried
They simply turned away
And when he died
He left a table made of nails and pride
And with his hands, he carved these words inside
'For my childen'
Morning light
Morning bright
I spent the night
With dreams that make you weep
Morning time
Wash away the sadness from these eyes of mine
For I recall the words an old man signed
'For my children'
"Talk"
And the legs were shaped with his hands-
And the top made of oaken wood-
And all the children that sat around his table
Touched it with their laughter-
Ah, and that was good-
Morningside
An old man died
And no one cried
He surely died alone
And truth is sad
For not a child would claim
the gift he had
The words he carved
became his epitaph