Came back as a ghost
Seeking news
Of what she loved most,
She’d ask first
Solo
1: “Where’s my son?
What’s happened to Abe?
What’s he done?
“Poor little Abe,
Left all alone
Except for
Who’s a rolling stone;
He was only nine
The year I died;
I remember still
How hard he cried.
All: “Scraping
alone
In a little shack,
With hardly a shirt
To cover his back,
And a private wind
To blow him down,
Or pinching times
If he went to town,
Solo
1: “You wouldn’t know
About my
son?
Did he grow tall?
Did he have fun?
Did he learn to read?
Do you know his name?
Did he get on?”