I hear sounds from the kitchen every morning

And sounds of happy laughter through the day

It's almost morn and my poor old heart can't take

For the lonely sounds that her mem'ry makes



I see footprints in the garden by her roses

And footprints in the yard seem to stay

Each time I see the footprints my heart just breaks

For the lonely footprints that her mem'ry makes



I feel her touch on my cheek every evening

And two arms wrapped around me every night

But to feel the touch when there's no one to tuch

Is more than I can take

For these are things that her mem'ry makes

For these are things that her mem'ry makes