B7 E B7 E
[Verse]B7 E
Morningside, the old man died,
B7 E
and no one cried, they simply turned away.
A E
And when he died, he left a table made of nails and pride,
B7 E
and with his hands he carved these words inside; "For my children."
[Verse] B7 E
Morning light, morning bright,
B7 E
I spent the night with dreams that make you weep.
A E
Morning time, wash away the sadness from these eyes of mine,
B7 E
for I recall the words the old man signed; "For my children."
(spoken)A
And the legs were shaped with his hands,
E
and the top made of oaken wood,
B7
and the children that sat around this great table
E
touched with their laughter, ah, and that was good.
[Verse]B7 E
Morningside, an old man died,
B7 E
and no one cried, he surely died alone.
A E
And truth is sad, for not a child would claim the gift he had,
B7 E
the words he carved became his epitaph; "For my children."
B7 E B7 E
