Are All the Children In
When I'm alone, I often think
Of an old house on the hill
Of a big yard hedged in roses
Where we ran and played at will
And when the night time brought us home
Hushing our merry din
Mother would look around and ask:
"Are all the children in?"
Well, it's been many a year now
And the old house on the hill
No longer has my mother's care
And the yard is still so still
But if I listen, I can hear it all
No matter how long it's been
I seem to hear my mother ask:
"Are all the children in?"
And I wonder, when the curtain falls
On that last earthly day
When we say goodbye to all of this
To our pain and work and play
When we step across the river
Where mother so long has been
Will we hear her ask a final time:
"Are all the children in?" (I come)
