There'd be days like these her momma said.
Not the ones she'd like,
Not the ones she'd choose,
Days that are dark and she'll live the tales.
Mary knew John would come at the dawn,
A little late or later but sure he would.
Waiting made her happy,
So she would send him merrily,
Like always,
a day late was normal,
a few days later was odd,
weeks together was scary.
but some days later he came,
he came breathless,
like the dead fishes, he'd always bring her from the sea.
There'd be days like these her momma said,
'When we wait to hug somebody and only cry!'