Sadie called the studio

And in a voice both soft and low

said, “You once painted the man I love

It was a long time ago.”



… said “I saw you in the paper

and I see you’re doing well”

Then she shared a story,

that only she could tell.



She said…

“He came and sat, as I think back

It was nineteen seventy three

We all laughed and talked, while you worked in chalk

I know he did it just for me.



You had me stand behind you

To make him turn his head

Cause each time you’d say “please look this way”

He was looking at me instead. “



Then her voice trembled just a bit

She almost whispered in the phone

That the man she loved now was gone

and she was all alone

But today she wanted to get in touch,

just to let me know….





How much she loved him, and how she held him in her heart

How that painting had kept him close to her, on the days they were apart

She told me it meant so much more than the sum of all it’s parts

Lines and shapes and colors….bits of lights and darks.





She said they made her give up nearly everything,

that she ever owned

To come and spend her final days

In this sad old nursing home



And then she told me one thing more,

and I nearly broke down and wept

She said that painting that I did for her,

was the only thing she kept.



Her life is much more simple now

But that’s okay she said

There’s just one painting on her wall

It hangs at the foot of her bed



CHORUS:

Because she loved him, and she held him in her heart

And that little painting, made them not seem so far apart

She can’t forget him, and there’s not a day goes by

That that painting didn’t bring a little joy into her life.





She said, “I’m not moving much these days,

but on those days I do

I swear I see his lovin’ eyes,

follow me around this room!



I always loved the way he smiled,

and you sure caught it right

He smiles at me each morning,

and the last thing every night.”







Now I’ve made bigger paintings, of people with more fame

They hang in public places, you may even know their names

And I”ve been paid and I’ve been thanked, but no one touched me more

Or put into perspective, just what we do this for.



No it may never hang, on any museum wall

It may never, ever be seen, by too many people at all

But if it only served to sooth, one sad and lonely heart

That would be, good enough for me, cause my painting, did it’s part.



I know I always did my very best, ….and I’m proud of them all

But nothing felt so good to me, as when…. Sadie made that call