Hands that are strong but wrinkled,
Doing work that never gets done.
Hair, that's lost some of its beauty,
By too many hours in the sun.
Eyes, that show some disappointment;
And there's been quite a lot in her life!
She's the foundation I lean on,
My woman, my woman, my wife.
Everyday has been uphill;
We climb but we can't reach the top.
I'm weak and I'm easily discouraged,
She just smiles when I want to stop.
Lips, that are weary but tender,
With love, that strengthens my life,
A saint, in a dress made of gingham;
My woman, my woman, my wife.
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