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As I'm sitting here in the firelight |
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And turning back the years |
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I can hear my mother singing in the morning |
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As she scrubbed our shining faces |
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And then packed us off to school |
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All too soon those days were over without warning |
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Sing me the songs of our gold and silver days |
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Days filled with innocence and light |
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Not a penny to our name |
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We were happy just the same |
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In our gold and silver days |
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In the parlor on a |
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Friday night |
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My father took the floor |
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I can hear us join together in the chorus |
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Singing "Just a Song at Twilight" |
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Or "The Moon Behind the Hill" |
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Now those voices are all silenced, gone before us |
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Sing me the songs of our gold and silver days |
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Days filled with innocence and light |
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Not a penny to our name |
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We were happy just the same |
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In our gold and silver days |
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And we gathered at the |
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Daisy Field |
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On Sunday after mass |
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I can hear the songs, the story's and the laughter |
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Through the years we all were scattered |
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But the friends we made back then |
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Were the friends we could rely on ever after |
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So sing me the songs of our gold and silver days |
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Days filled with innocence and light |
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Not a penny to our name |
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We were happy just the same |
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In those gold and silver days |
