[Verse 1] Mama kept the good china in a cabinet by the stairs, White with little blue flowers, only brought out for affairs. We ate our Sunday dinners off the plates we used all week, While the good ones gathered dust behind the glass, all clean and neat. She had a dress she’d never worn and perfume put away, Said they were for somewhere special, not an ordinary day. I’d ask her what she waited for; she’d smile and look at me, Say, “Some things are worth the waiting, honey. One day you will see.” [Pre-Chorus 1] The years went by like years will do, Till someday never came. I stood there sorting through her things, And everything looked the same. The dress still had its tags attached, The perfume barely gone, And all those plates she’d saved for later Were waiting to be drawn. [Chorus 1] She was always saving something For a day that hadn’t come, A little bit of beauty For a life not yet begun. But the years don’t make you promises, And tomorrow doesn’t stay, There’s a whole lot of living She kept putting off to someday. [Verse 2] I wrapped those plates in newspaper, brought the whole box home, Set them in my kitchen where they’d sit for months alone. Then one Tuesday after supper, my little girl, just eight, Asked if we could eat our cake off Grandma’s flower plates. I said, “Baby, those are special,” as she reached up toward the shelf, But the plate slipped through her fingers, and she couldn’t catch it herself. She stood there crying, saying, “Mama, I didn’t mean to,” And I heard my mother’s voice in mine before I even knew. [Pre-Chorus 2] I knelt beside the broken pieces, Saw her waiting for the blame. And I realized in that moment I’d been teaching her the same. That the beautiful was fragile, That the ordinary could wait, That a memory mattered more Than the little girl beside the plate. [Chorus 2] I was standing in her footsteps, Saying things she’d always said, Putting all those pretty dishes Before the little girl I had. And the years don’t make you promises, And tomorrow doesn’t stay, I almost taught my daughter To keep putting life off to someday. [Bridge] I said, “Honey, look at Mama, It’s a plate, and you’re my world. There ain’t a dish worth crying over, Not a single one, sweet girl. Your grandma saved these pretty things For company that never came, But you and me are company enough To use them just the same.” We swept the broken pieces up, put cake on plates for two, I said, “Go find your prettiest dress, we’ve got some dressing up to do.” I slipped into my mama’s dress, her perfume on my skin, She came twirling down the hallway with a crooked little grin. We turned the kitchen radio up and danced across the floor, She asked, “Mama, are you sure we’re allowed?” with her eyes open wide, I said, “Baby, we don’t need a reason,” and we danced till bedtime arrived. [Final Chorus] We aren’t saving pretty things now For a day that hasn’t come, There’s a little bit of heaven In the ordinary ones. ‘Cause the years don’t make you promises, And tomorrow doesn’t stay, There’s a whole lot of living We don’t have to put off to someday.
