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The Parlor Song

Mark Brine
Mark Brine


Written by:  Mark Brine

 In the parlor we shared Christmas gifts
 'n joys that haunt once more
 In the parlor we played games of chess
 'n checkers on the floor
 While the old black-and-white glowed above
 In the dimlit coziness
 Like a fireplace that tugs the eyes
 'n warms the inner-ness
 In the parlor on the table
 where the aged-old pictures sat
 In frames propped up like watching us
 our generations past
 Some I'd known 'n some I'd not
 But if only in that still
 their memories secured in me
 'n I'm sure they always will
 In the parlor stood the sofa I knelt upon in prayer
 Slept upon in sickness and sometimes used as a chair
 To sit amongst the silent love (lull) that softly settled there
 Yes, like a savored odor, I yet can smell that I long to
 but cannot share except in a song
 In the parlor where we lived and died
 And the spirits yet remain
 Like an echo in a tunnel scene
 Where things move, but never change
 I can see us close, though not to touch
 All together once again
 In the parlor in nostalgic mem’ries
 And in the fondly never dying then
©2004 Mark Brine Music (BMI)

Love Songs

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