The Last Coffee Cup

Every morning starts

the very same way

A little blue mug on a chipped ceramic tray

She bought it for a dollar

thirty years ago

With a tiny yellow flower and a crooked little bow (mmm)

Then his daughter came to visit

on a rainy afternoon

Reaching for a kettle

and a silver plated spoon

A sudden heavy crash

on the kitchen tile floor

And the blue ceramic flower

wasn't blooming anymore

She cried, "I'm so sorry,

Dad, I broke your favorite cup" But he just smiled so softly

as he swept the pieces up No,

it was never just a coffee cup,

sitting on the shelf

It was only ever love trying to show itself

He sat her down and held her

shaking hand in his own And said,

"You thought without it,

I would end up all alone

But the ceramic was a vessel,

just a simple piece of clay

And the love that your mother gave me never washes away"

We still have the love

(we still have the love) No,

it was never just a coffee cup