The Window - J.W.

There's a little girl sitting by the window.
There are teardrops on her hand.
Her best friend was moving away that day,
with her family to a far away land.
She cries wishing she could go with her,
but she knows there won't be a chance.
So she waits by the window and watches,
hoping her friend can spare a second glance.

There is a teenage girl sitting by the window.
There are teardrops on her hand.
Her boyfriend has just shattered her heart,
throwing their love away on a one night stand.
She cries wishing he was still with her,
but she knows that there isn't a chance.
Her trust in him was broken that day,
her Prince was but a frog, a knight without a lance.

There's a young woman sitting at the window.
There are teardrops on her hand.
Her husband has just been shipped off,
to fight in a far away land.
She cries wishing he was home with her,
but she knows that there's always the chance.
One bad move, one wrong decision,
and her wedding will have been their last dance.

There's an old woman sitting by the window.
There are teardrops on her hand.
She's ready and waiting for her time,
to return home to the Promised Land.
She cries wishing her husband were with her,
but she knows there's always the chance.
That he could be there waiting for her,
with his hand out, asking for their first dance.

There's a little girl sitting by the window.
There are teardrops on her hand.