[BARBARA]
The children we didn't have
Don't call
Their heights aren't marked
With pencil on the wall
They don't ride bikes
Cry out at night
Or fall and graze a knee
And their arms will never reach
For the mother, I never got to be

The children we didn't have
Press in
Remind me that we couldn't just begin
They laugh on swings
They whisper things I'm not supposed to know
And they'll never stop to see
The mother that nevеr was
That's me

Think about all the children wе didn't have
Picture them playing in the light
Think of them deep in thought
Think of their face when they're caught
Doing something naughty
Now picture them three, or four
Picture them walking out the door
Think of them twenty, or thirty, or forty
Now picture a teen
I think you know who I mean