With ancient trembling hands she sat,
her table set with tea for two,
she knew that he would not be back,
a cancer killed him, that she knew.

For sixty years they’d lived their lives,
her table set with tea for two,
the tea pot full just like their love,
in times of stress, a welcome brew.

And now her love was dead and gone,
her table set with tea for two,
the old tea pot her comfort now,
without him there what would she do?

The lonely pot, her lonely soul,
her lonely table set for two,
a lonely tear rolled down her face,
without his love her life was through.

But then she heard a neighbour call,
who saw the table set for two,
‘I’ve come to see if you’re ok
and have a pot of tea with you.’

Her friends could not replace her love,
but having friends she could get through,
by always making sure she had
her table set with tea for two.