Today is the first day of the rest of my life:
today is the day that I have buried my wife.
Two weeks ago she was still here right by my side.
I was as much in love as when she was my bride.
Today I have to keep a sad smile on my face,
and talk about my wife and her elegant grace.
But tomorrow I’ll weep in our house, all alone;
tomorrow I doubt I’ll even answer the phone.
I wish I was back on this very day last year,
when we were together, and my wife was still here.
It was her birthday: there were candles on her cake,
and we joked about how many more she would make.
Today is a day I will always remember
today is her day, it’s the third of September.
Today’s the day sixty years ago we were wed
today’s the first day that I took her to my bed.
But now she has been taken quite out of the blue,
I’m left all alone, just wondering what to do.
Just for today, I’m surrounded by all my friends,
but what of tomorrow and long days without ends?
Today is the last day I want to live my life,
tomorrow I would rather go and join my wife.
I don’t want to live here all alone by myself,
there’s no other woman for me left on the shelf.
So I’ll close the door when everyone has gone
and take all the pills as I sit here all alone.
Today is the day that I have buried my wife,
today is the last day of the rest of my life.