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