A WARDROBE FULL OF MEMORIES
She opens the doors of her old wooden wardrobe wide
Look at all her clothes arranged by colour inside
To anyone else they would be just old clothes
That should have gone to a charity shop a long time ago
But to her this is a wardrobe of memories
And everything it here has its own story to tell.
She’s still the same dress size now that she was in her twenties
All her friends say, they don’t know how she does it
But she’s always taken pride in her appearance, looked after herself
That blue dress she wore on that first date with the boy of her dreams
She could still fit into it now if she ever wanted too
But those dreams were such a long time ago now, such a long time ago now
That old orange felt hat that she bought for a wedding she never went to
The moths have been at that one, look at the holes in it now
How could she ever have gone to that wedding, what was she thinking of
Someone she thought was her best girlfriend in life
Standing there getting married to that boy of her dreams
And everyone there knew she should have been the bride that day
There’s that smart black dress that she wore to her father’s funeral
She just stood there outside the church doors in a daze
Shaking hands with so many people that she never even knew
Having no idea what she was supposed to say to them
While her mother just broke down, how she cried and cried
No matter how much gin she later tried to put inside
Oh and that bright red dress she bought for her fiftieth birthday
The one she thought would make her look twenty again
But her friends were all right, and she had to admit it
It was far too short, too low at the neckline and a little too tight
Who cared though, it was her birthday party, not theirs
And she had such warm memories of that handsome stranger that night
She closes the doors of her old wooden wardrobe wide
Thinks about all her clothes arranged by colour inside
To anyone else they would be just old clothes
That should have gone to a charity shop a long time ago
But to her this is a wardrobe of memories
And everything it here has its own story to tell.
Look at all her clothes arranged by colour inside
To anyone else they would be just old clothes
That should have gone to a charity shop a long time ago
But to her this is a wardrobe of memories
And everything it here has its own story to tell.
She’s still the same dress size now that she was in her twenties
All her friends say, they don’t know how she does it
But she’s always taken pride in her appearance, looked after herself
That blue dress she wore on that first date with the boy of her dreams
She could still fit into it now if she ever wanted too
But those dreams were such a long time ago now, such a long time ago now
That old orange felt hat that she bought for a wedding she never went to
The moths have been at that one, look at the holes in it now
How could she ever have gone to that wedding, what was she thinking of
Someone she thought was her best girlfriend in life
Standing there getting married to that boy of her dreams
And everyone there knew she should have been the bride that day
There’s that smart black dress that she wore to her father’s funeral
She just stood there outside the church doors in a daze
Shaking hands with so many people that she never even knew
Having no idea what she was supposed to say to them
While her mother just broke down, how she cried and cried
No matter how much gin she later tried to put inside
Oh and that bright red dress she bought for her fiftieth birthday
The one she thought would make her look twenty again
But her friends were all right, and she had to admit it
It was far too short, too low at the neckline and a little too tight
Who cared though, it was her birthday party, not theirs
And she had such warm memories of that handsome stranger that night
She closes the doors of her old wooden wardrobe wide
Thinks about all her clothes arranged by colour inside
To anyone else they would be just old clothes
That should have gone to a charity shop a long time ago
But to her this is a wardrobe of memories
And everything it here has its own story to tell.
"A Wardrobe Full of Memories" Copyright © Tom King 2022