Schoolbag in hand,
she leaves home in the early morning,
waving goodbye, with an absentminded smile.
I watch her go,
with a surge of that well known sadness,
and I have to sit down for a while.
The feeling that I’m losing her forever
and without really entering her world.
I’m glad whenever I can share her laughter,
that funny little girl.
Slipping through my fingers all the time,
I try to capture ev’ry minute,
the feeling in it.
Slipping through my fingers all the time,
do I really see what’s in her mind?
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
she keeps on growing.
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
Sleep in our eyes,
her and my at the breakfast table,
barely awake, I let precious time go by.
Then when she’s gone,
there’s that old melancholy feeling
and a sense of guilt I can’t deny.
What happened to the wonderful adventures,
the places I had planned for us to go?
Well, some of that we did, but most we didn’t
and why, I just don’t know.
Slipping through my fingers all the time,
I try to capture ev’ry minute,
the feeling in it.
Slipping through my fingers all the time,
do I really see what’s in her mind?
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
she keeps on growing.
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
and save it from the funny trick of time.
Slipping through my fingers.
Schoolbag in hand,
she leaves home in the early morning,
waving goodbye with an absentminded smile….
