She runs her tiny delicate fingers through my dark hair,
She pauses, smiles and observes me with care.
As she continues, we play a musical duet,
Never to be repeated,
Throughout the years of our existence our song lives on
Never to be repeated.
When we get old and sit rocking in the chairs,
She runs her musical fingers through my hair,
And I know the dance will live through the years.
Never to be repeated.