Revised original for better vocals

To Mary Jo
Music and Lyrics: Mike Krath
artificially enhanced using SUNO

Lyrics

There's a cemetery on the hill
that contains my next of kin,
and some were fat, and some were thin,
and that’s all I remember of them,
And I walk among their stones without a thought,
On my way to my Mary Jo’s plot.

And I spread a blanket near her stone,
And I lay a red rose down,
Then I sit and talk of our son,
How’s he been doing all year ‘til now.
And I tell her what’s important,
And what she’d needs to hear
And if I miss something,
Oh well, there’s always next year.

And the first year I told her he walked,
As one would expect,
But his first words were mama, not dada,
And he did it to show her respect,
And his second year he was trouble,
And I was glad she wasn’t around,
And in the third I disciplined him in anger,
And I wasn’t very proud.

And his fourth and fifth were happy,
All he did was play
Then he cried going into first grade,
and I really wanted him to stay,
And then on and on through little league,
and up to seventh grade,
and his girlfriends made me sad,
And it made him feel dismayed
But High School I let him go
To choose his path to walk,
But he still asked my advice about life and such
And we had real times of talk.
Then the dreaded day came,
When he asked if he could drive,
And I made a face, but still paid his course
And thank God he’s still alive.

And today I want to tell you,
Our boy graduated this week,
he looked so nice in his cap and gown,
so grown up now,
you'd be so proud,
and he graduated with honors,
He's so smart,
just like you were,
So proud, Mary Jo,
so proud.

Now Mary Jo it’s getting cold up here,
And I need to be heading down,
But I’ll return again next year, my love,
To let you know all our son’s doings above this ground.

There's a cemetery on the hill
that contains our next of kin,
and some were fat, and some were thin,
and that’s what people remember of them,
But a woman who died before her son
could open his eyes to see her,
Has been kept abreast by the man she loved
Of the things her son’s endured.

To Mary Jo

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