The book I bought yesterday
I started to read.
I found a small marigold
pressed between leaves.
And in that small marigold,
well, I found a note
saying, "Please won't you write to me
'cause I'm so alone."
So I'm going to write back today.
Yes, I'm going to write right away.
I started "Dear Marigold,"
not knowing her name.
"I just had to write to you
'cause I feel the same.
"You sound like the marigold
that I found today.
The beauty was there to be found
but fading away."
So I'm writing to you today.
Yes, I'm writing to you right away.
As I started righting,
well what can I say?
I got to thinking
where are you today.
Brown leather cover,
ripped, tattered, and torn.
It's been such a long, long time
since the flower was born.
There's no need to write back today.
I'm not going write right away.
Just like a swan she is gliding,
drifting from here unto there.
She has no thoughts of dying,
winter does not mean despair.
Warm summer nights left behind her,
thinking of things that she's done.
Once were her friends all around her,
but now she is only one.
Swan, swan keep your feet off the ground.
Keep flying around.
It's lonely you've found.
You were left on your own.
You didn't do right
not to take off and fly
when your friends left that night.
chorus
Someday I know you'll see something
that will bring back the memories of gold.
You'll meet the friends that did leave you.
No more to be left in the cold.
And just like a swan you'll be gliding,
drifting from here unto there.
You'll have no thoughts of dying
'cause winter did not mean despair
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