Don’t you know the day has passed and now it’s time for sleep
Or won’t your weary heart let you rest
Don’t you know the day has passed into a darkness deep
Why do you clutch that picture to your breast?
Oh this picture holds a memory of a better time
One that seemed so very long ago
As I kneel down by my besdide and begin to pray
I sometimes wonder why
But you’re right and it’s getting late and time for me to part
As I felt the teardrop well into my eye
To see the old man leaving with a broken heart
With a picture of my mother by her side.