| She had another birthday ... And she sat before the mirror ~ She contemplated her gray hair... Her wrinkles and her years. But she didn't need to fret... And she really shouldn't fear ~ Cause her gray hairs are memories ... Her wrinkles are souvenirs. Each strand of silver shows a worry... That never came to pass ~ Each deep line upon her face ,., Is there because she laughed. There have been times of trouble ... And there have been days of stress ~ But life has really been quite good... For she's been truly blessed. And so it's Happy Birthday... She is so very dear ~ For her gray hairs are memories... And her wrinkles are souvenirs. |