Our Mum is a survivor, Or so we've heard it said. But we can hear her crying, when all others are in bed. We watch her lay awake at night, and go to hold her hand. She doesn't know we’re with her, to help her understand. But like the sands upon the beach, that never wash away... We watch over our surviving Mum, who thinks of us each day. She wears a smile for others... A smile of disguise. But through heaven's open door, we see tears flowing from her eyes. Our mum tries to cope with our death, to keep our memory alive. But anyone who knows her, knows it's her way to survive. As we watch over our surviving Mum, through heaven's open door... We try to tell her.. Angels protect us forevermore. We know that doesn't help her...Or ease the burden she bears. So if you get a chance, talk to her... And show her that you care. For no matter what she says... No matter what she feels. Our surviving Mum has a broken heart That time won't ever heal.