Four little girls all grown up,
Now they are young women instead,
The years have flown by,
And they waved us 'Goodbye'
And old age, is the future we dread,
Once in a while,they come home,
Asking if we are alright,
We're happy to see them,
And share their life's different views,
But if we could turn the clock back,
Our four little girls, we'd choose,
But life is mapped out for us all,
And at least they visit and call.
So our purpose in life ,
We did not lose,