All the Same Eyes - Rheostatics

A mother and her kids

An eleven a.m. trip

Down the street from where they live

To a grassy little stop

That someone’s called a park

'Cause it’s routed in the wood

A mother and her kids

And they all have the same eyes

And they’re greener than they’re blue

And they love each other, too

A mother looking tired

Always weighted under

'Cause no one else brought food

And it’s a (Sunday) slow afternoon

'Cause there’s no one else around

And the TV drags her down

Under weight of growing up from the ground

I aspire to work so hard

All the gold is buried in the park

A mother and her kids

Walking hand in hand in hand

And they all have the same eyes