Writers: Doug Supernaw, Lonnie Atkinson



Cold tile floors, a single bed

The TV is her only company

Out he door she sticks her head

Thought she heard her family



But it's not Christmas or Mother's Day

And all her old friends have passed away

She's living in a garden

Where only heartache grows

'Cuz what was a blooming flower

Is now a wilting rose



Days go by, she's hanging on

Staring at the grand kids on the wall

She stars to cry cuz Sunday's gone

I guess they just forgot to call



And all that keeps her from giving up

The hope she'll look outside and walking up

Is a child that must meet Grandma before the day she goes

Cuz what was a blooming flower

Is now a wilting rose



She's living in a garden where everybody knows

That we'll soon be laying flowers upon our wilting rose