She is chasing the child in autumn
Her face, it is red from the cold
He is throwing blown-kisses under red-yellow trees
While she's caught in a motherly pose
When the mother's gone...gone...
The love remains.
Chasing the child in winter
Her lips, they are chapped from the cold
He is throwing light snowballs from the drifts in the yard
They land at her feet in the snow
When the mother's gone...gone...
The love remains.
No chasing the child in springtime
Her breath has been lost in the cold
He plays with his toys in a lonely old house
Too young a child yet to know
That the mother's gone...gone...
And the love remains...the love remains...the love remains.