CHORUS: This old chair .. the wide west window seems to suit her best.
Wicker bones .. rubbed shiny thru the years, beg for a rest.
And she's rocked more children in her arms than just my own, after all,
with amber sunlight strewn across her .. like a shawl.
1. There was a time .. more simple and more free ..
when afternoon lay warm across my knee ..
and I would sit .. and sing my child to sleep.
In this old chair we had the time to keep.
2. And through the years of summers and of snows ..
she held the tender hopes that children know.
From out her limbs .. first wings of love took flight.
Her comfort .. kept us through the night.
3. Now, in repose .. with children spun away ..
she bears the nicks and badges of their play ..
their laughter buried deep .. within the wood.
When I hear .. I remember .. it was good.