The story behind this song
Life said "later" twenty years ago — a job that couldn't wait, kids who couldn't either. So the homework happened at the same table as theirs, one lamp between the chairs, spelling tests beside term papers. Night class after day shift, dinner from a thermos on chapter twenty-nine, the youngest face in the carpool line and the oldest in the lecture hall. The kids called it brave. She called it Tuesday.
For the friend who picked the dream back up at forty and finished what life paused — right on time, it turns out.
Lyrics
But you never dropped the dream
Spelling tests and term papers, one lamp between the chairs
Youngest in the carpool line, oldest in the class
You raised your hand at forty — that takes a kind of brass
You finally said "now"
You finished what life paused, you picked the story up again
The kids saw every late night, they learned what trying means
Diploma at forty
Right on time, it seems
Eating dinner from a thermos on chapter twenty-nine
The professors called you "ma'am," the kids there called you brave
You called it Tuesday, hung your coat, and turned another page
You finished in spite of twenty
You finished what life paused, you picked the story up again
The kids saw every late night, they learned what trying means
Diploma at forty
Right on time, it seems
It wasn't some celebrity
It was you, at the kitchen table, refusing to let go
You finished what life paused, you picked the story up again
The kids saw every late night, they learned what trying means
Diploma at forty
Right on time, it seems
Where the work got done
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