Harry Belafonte - Morningside (For The Children)

Morningside
The old man died
And no one cried
They simply turned away

And when he died
He left a table made
Of nails and pride
And with his hands he
Carved these words inside
For my children

Morning light
Morning bright
I spent the night
With dreams
That make you weep

Morning time
Wash away the sadness
From these eyes of mine
For I recall the words
An old man signed
For my children

And the legs were shaped
With his hands
And the top
Made of oaken wood
And the children
That sat around his great table
Touched it with their laughter
Ah and that was good

Morning side
An old man died
And no one cried
He surely died alone

And truth is sad
For not a children would claim
The gift he had
The words he had carved
Became his epitaph
For my children

For my children.