aretha franklin
precious memories
Precious memories, how they linger How they ever flood my soul In the stillness of the midnight Precious, sacred scenes unfold.  Precious father, loving mother Fly across the lonely years And old home scenes of my childhood In fond memory appear.  In the stillness of the midnight Echoes from the past I hear Old-time singing, gladness bringing From that lovely land somewhere.  As I travel on life's pathway Know not what the years may hold As I ponder, hope grows fonder Precious memories flood my soul.