It’s 3 o’clock, and time for tea:
A door into my history.
Something I can’t understand:
A letter in her aging hand.
She said “You’ve got his spidery writing
And the wrinkle in your brow, that’s his too.
I never knew until today
How much of him remains in you.
Oh Lord, how I miss him
When my lonely day is through.

“I’m always glad when you stop by”,
A tear behind her tired eye.
“You know you always did him proud:
Can you read this letter, once, out loud?”
It said “I never showed you Paris,
But I built a little house for you.
I wasn’t always perfect,
But I did the best that I could do.
And you always kept me laughing
When my working day was through.

“’Cause it’s all in the little things
It’s always in the little things
They can keep you close or take you far
They can plant a kiss, or leave a scar
But either way
They make us into who we are.”

It’s 3 o’clock, and time for tea
And memory washes over me
I won’t be coming ‘round no more:
Time has finally closed that door
I won’t be coming ‘round no more…

It’s beautiful: a summer day:
Time to give the girl away.
Something borrowed, something more:
The wedding dress that she once wore.
I said “You’ve got her pixie figure,
And the colour in your cheeks, that’s hers too.
I never knew until today
How much of her remains in you.
And I know she’ll be smiling
When this perfect day is through.”

Cause it’s all in the little things
It’s always in the little things
They can keep you close, or take you far
They can plant a kiss, or leave a scar
But either way
They make us into who we are.