“How beautiful she looks” - I heard people say
“Her hair is majestic, perfect that way...
Oh, what a looker she was in her day”
And that's how she'll be remembered
She picked out her casket, the music, the preacher
The dress she would wear, and the highlights to feature
The words on her headstone, and the silk underneath her
And I promised I'd make her up pretty
Her head in my hands, they were trembling so
This hair that I combed, that would nevermore grow
I put a bow at the end of the braid
Keeping the promise I'd made
“How beautiful she looks” - I heard people say
“Her hair is majestic, perfect that way...
Oh, what a looker she was in her day”
And that's how she'll be remembered
Why was she taken, so young, and this way?
I doubt if I'll learn before my dying day
And who'll do my hair, and who'll make up my face...
A stranger, or someone who knew me?
“How beautiful she looks” - I heard people say
“Her hair is majestic, perfect that way...
Oh, what a looker she was in her day”
And that's how she'll be remembered