Carolyn McCaine

The blossom's on the cherry tree, the bird is on the wing

The land is sweet and greening and the breeze, it smells of spring

And me, I am an old man, and my memory it stirs

I think of Carolyn McCain and things that never were

She lived in town in a fine house, at Chestnut Street and Main

Her father was a lawyer with his suit and watch and chain

I meant nothing to her, she never knew my name

A working boy, invisible to Carolyn McCain

To lay my head upon her lap and hear her speak my name

That's all I ever wanted, sweet Carolyn McCain