She opens a letter,
And has to take a seat.
More bad news comes through the post
On print inked A4 sheet.
She wants to leave them all behind,
But her conscience just wont allow.
She's crying buckets now.

She drives over to the hospital
In her silver P-reg Ford,
Hands shake on the steering wheel,
She's praying to the Lord.
She tried not to get too upset,
She'd  even made herself a vow,
But she's crying buckets now.

She explains the situation
To her sister who's a part-time nurse,
Tells her of the things gone wrong,
How it couldn't be much worse.
"There's ways to sort this" she replied,
"Calm down and listen to me now...
And stop crying buckets now."

There comes a point when you or I
Just don't know what to do.
It all feels like there's far too much,
We'll never see it through,
But we're not different, we're not special,
People go through much worse, and how.
So don't cry buckets now.