I Thought
I thought you'd be here, Sweetie Pie,When we turned old and gray.
I thought we'd watch the setting sun
On San Francisco Bay.
I thought we'd stroll through redwoods,
Or amble hand in hand
Along Pacific beaches with
Their rocks and shifting sand.
I thought we'd roam Yosemite,
Or sample Napa's wine,
Or watch the pillowed fog creep in,
In golden summertime.
I guess some things aren't meant to be,
Or that's the way it seems.
When death lays down his final hand
He leaves but broken dreams.
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