It's old and it's faded
It's tattered and torn
And it's often been mended before
But it's pink and it's blue
And to me, good as new
The dress that my mother wore
It's old and it's faded
The lining is worn
And the snap doesn't catch anymore
It's not worth very much
Yet I thrill when I touch
The dress that my mother wore
It's easy for me to start dreaming and see
How she looked long ago in that dress
As she toyed with the lace, looking down at the face
Of a boy softly whispering "say yes!"
I know how she felt
When she wore it and knelt
In the church as they prayed side by side
I can feel the world spin as he tilted her chin
And kissed her and made her his bride
It's old and it's faded
It's tattered and torn
Yes, it's often been mended before
There's a rip here and there
But no gown can compare
With the dress that my mother wore
