(Bachman/Cummings)



Miss Fudge is only waiting for a man to come her way

she has been waiting 80 years for Mr. Maple but he doesn't know that she is waiting too

it's nothing new



Mr. Maple gets up early every morning cooks his breakfast all alone the house is cold

He needs a woman's hand to comfort him in his reclining years

He overhears



The people on the street they pass him by and sort of snicker

In his younger years he should have been a little quicker

For in the hand of someone he could love but who's to judge

If he'll ever have a meeting with Miss Fudge



Miss Fudge's hopes were fading that a man would come her way

She had been darning no ones socks and when the years crept up her misery 

Just slowly pushed her on

And now she's gone



Mr Maple's life alone was just too much for him to bear

And in his heart he knew there'd never be someone to comfort him at times he cried

And then he died



But everything is better now

They're both at last together

The question now is answered for all those who wondered whether

They each at last had found a friend and if they did misjudge

Their tombstones side by side read Maple Fudge