Just stopped in to say hello.
Mi Amor, you remembered me.
Always.
You had that beautiful smile way back then.
And that wonderful sense of humor.
"Me" with stars How cute.
It took me so many years to figure it out.
Oh sweet Beverly ... oh sweet Sam.
I wrote this for you,
I only wish you had a chance to read it.
He Called You Sam
He called you Sam.
How odd a nickname for such a pretty girl.
“Hey Sam, go out and play.”
“Sam, clean that room.”
“Please,” he didn’t have to say.
Reluctant for the chore, but you adored the man.
So off you’d go for the one who called you Sam.
“Sam, such a lovely smile you have today.”
It would grow brighter with his voice.
“I love you daddy.”
“I love you, Sam.”
That’s all he had to say.
And then the cancer came.
Gone and you just a child of twelve.
It could never be the same.
No one to call you Sam.
No sound of “Sam” to bring a smile.
No “Sam, clean that room” today … or any other day.
One day there. One
day gone.
Lay bare the heart ... and cry you did.
Such a heavy load to bear.
No one to keep the boys at bay.
No one to teach you this or that.
No one to say: “I love you, Sam.”
“I love you, Sam.”
The loss, it marked you well.
A wound not seen, but there, a heart not whole.
A week? A month? A year?
Could he have tarried just awhile?
Only those who took the time,
Who stopped and sought to listen.
They too could hear the whisper in your heart.
The need. The
need. The need.
The need to be just Sam.
And hear without condition,
“I love you, Sam.”
“I love you, Sam.”
He called you Sam.
How odd a nickname for such a lovely woman.
Have a tune for you today ... an oldie, enjoy
In every other song that I've heard lately
Some fellow gets shot
And his baby and his best friend both die with him
As likely as not
In half of the other songs
Some Cat's crying or ready to die
We've lost most of our happy people
And I'm wondering why
Let's think about living
Let's think about loving
Let's think about the whoopin'
and hoppin and boppin'
and the lovie, lovie dovin'
Let's forget about the whinin' and the cryin'
And the shooting and the dying
And the fellow with a switchblade knife
Let's think about living
Let's think about life
We lost old Marty Robbins
Down in old El Paso a little while back
And now Miss Patti Page or one of them
Is a-wearing black
And Cath's Clown has Don and Phil
Where they feel like a-they could die
If we keep on a-losin' our singers like that
I'll be the only one you can buy'
Let's think about living
Let's think about loving
Let's think about the whoopin'
and hoppin and boppin'
and the lovie, lovie dovin'
Let's forget about the whinin' and the cryin'
And the shooting and the dying
And the fellow with a switchblade knife
Let's think about living
Let's think about life
Some fellow gets shot
And his baby and his best friend both die with him
As likely as not
In half of the other songs
Some Cat's crying or ready to die
We've lost most of our happy people
And I'm wondering why
Let's think about living
Let's think about loving
Let's think about the whoopin'
and hoppin and boppin'
and the lovie, lovie dovin'
Let's forget about the whinin' and the cryin'
And the shooting and the dying
And the fellow with a switchblade knife
Let's think about living
Let's think about life
We lost old Marty Robbins
Down in old El Paso a little while back
And now Miss Patti Page or one of them
Is a-wearing black
And Cath's Clown has Don and Phil
Where they feel like a-they could die
If we keep on a-losin' our singers like that
I'll be the only one you can buy'
Let's think about living
Let's think about loving
Let's think about the whoopin'
and hoppin and boppin'
and the lovie, lovie dovin'
Let's forget about the whinin' and the cryin'
And the shooting and the dying
And the fellow with a switchblade knife
Let's think about living
Let's think about life
