Raggedy Ann

Latching the door at a two-star motel
    an old mattress breaks his fall
Opens his suit case and under its shell
    he finds a tattered rag doll

He can see
    small flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him
He cries, "Sad dark room I'm not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me."

Taped to a small hand he finds a note:
"Dear dad I packed this for you."
"Annie's my best friend," his daughter wrote, "you won't get lonely, it's true."

He can see
    small flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him
He cries, "Sad dark room, I'm not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me."

Somewhere a young child sleeps by herself hoping that dad will come home
Somewhere a rag doll sits high on a shelf, now free to be on her own

He can see
    small flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him
He cries, "Sad dark room, I'm not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me."
Flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him
He cries, "Sad dark room, I'm not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me."

Still loves me
Still loves me
Still loves me
She loves me!