The End of the Line

I saw a photo of Eliza Jane
Standing in the porch of the church
She married Sydney Charles at twenty three
Then they raised a family
It wasn't always easy, it never is
But the good times came out on top
Then last Tuesday at ten to four
Her heart just suddenly stopped.

     You don't always realise how quickly it goes
     When you're travelling forward in time
     And you don't always know how long you've left
     Till you've reached the end of the line.
     There were lines on paper to say how she died
     But they didn't match the lines on her face
     And at journeys end when she went to the Lord
     She did it with an easy grace.

I've seen other pictures of Eliza Jane
Dancing at the Moulin Rouge
Tall and graceful with feathers galore
Flashing her legs and then more
When you look at the old you don't always see
The youngsters that they used to be
Moaners complained about how she began
But to me she was just my Nan.

     You don't always realise how quickly it goes
     When you're travelling forward in time
     And you don't always know how long you've left
     Till you've reached the end of the line.
     There were lines on paper to say how she died
     But they didn't match the lines on her face
     And at journeys end when she went to the Lord
     She did it with an easy grace.

There's nothing left to say
We buried my Nan today
Standing around
As they lowered her down
Then we just walked away.

     You don't always realise how quickly it goes
     When you're travelling forward in time
     And you don't always know how long you've left
     Till you've reached the end of the line.
     There were lines on paper to say how she died
     But they didn't match the lines on her face
     And at journeys end when she went to the Lord
     She did it with an easy grace.