No one to be a friend
No one would look his way
As the old man walked along

His eyes growing dim
His hair turning so grey
And only a few tomorrows
To come and go and gone

Familar cane in his hand
As he walked near the busy street
The voices of children at play
Suddenly he stopped,as something rolled to his feet

One was the color of green,one was the color of red
Trembling he picked them up
And barely he could see,then his heart became so gay
So thought the old man
Must be Easter today