I like it    I don't like it

When I'm alone I often think of an old house on the hill

Of a big yard hedged in roses where we ran and played at will

And when the night time brought us home hushing our merry din

Mother would look around and ask are all the children in

Well it's been many a year now and the old house on the hill

No longer has my mother's care and the yard is still so still

But if I listen I can hear it all no matter how long it's been

I seem to hear my mother ask are all the children in

And I wonder when the curtain falls on that last earthly day

When we say goodbye to all of this to our pain and work and play

When we step across the river where mother so long has been

Will we hear ask her a final time are all the children in (I come)