When you were just a little child of four.
I still need your happy laughter and your kiss upon my brow.
But floks don't kiss old poeple anymore.
My hair has turned to silver and my face is lined with age.
Where the traces of the years have gone before.
I still need the reassurance you longed for as a child.
But folk don't kiss old people anymore.
Then will you understand that I'm not really old at all?
The thoughts that fill my ming are young and free.
Time can't erase my need for love or take away the pain
Of loneliness each new day may bring.
It would only take a little time from busy chores you do.
How I'd love to see you standing at my door.
I need to feel your gentle kiss upon my wrinkled face.
But folks don't kiss old people anymore.
From Peasebird, Copyright 1974
Franciscan COmmunications Center.