Out the cobweb front door,
She fell holding her baby.
A sweet young thing all wrapped up,
And an infant.
She asked me for a hand,
But I lost both of mine in the war.
So she asked for a foot,
But I am in a wheelchair.
So for a while we both sat and cried
Together, and cried for where we were stuck.
And the baby just smiled and looked at the sky,
While we waited for thunder and cried.