Imitation leather, pink Naugahyde:
Two-inch tear down the left-hand side,
Came from Daddy's pocketknife,
That wasn't my fault.
Moved along with us everywhere we went.
No matter where we lived it always fit in,
Kinda like our next of kin:
If that chair could talk.
My little brother, Billy, broke his left hand,
Jumpin' off the arm like Superman,
With my grandma's old red Afghan tied around his neck.
It's where at least a thousand books were read,
An' our Siamese cat made it her bed.
It even heard an "I thee wed" when sister married in the living room,
To that Phillips boy from just down the block.
If that chair could talk.
Mama bought it in a yard sale in '65.
It was daddy's favorite chair after he retired.
Survived all of that and a kitched fire:
Smoke stains rubbed right off.
It's where I spent a million hours talking on the ' phone.
It was my favorite place to polish my toes,
Something mama didn't know.
If that chair could talk.
From "Leave It To Beaver" to "The Brady Bunch";
Chicken noodle soup to Captain Crunch;
TV dinners to Sunday lunch, and movies late at night.
Brother tippin' me backwards until I screamed:
He'd get in trouble for bein' so mean.
And when he told Mama that he'd joined the Marines,
It's where she sat down in shock.
The good, the bad, it's seen it all,
If that chair could talk.
It caught my tears,
Held it up when I felt bad.
It called my fears:
It's good to keep a friend like that.
It hid the ice cream money for hot summer days:
Listened while I practised for my High School play,
And all the times it heard me pray,
When things were going rough.
And it's where Bobby Baker gave me my first kiss:
Mama came in and nearly had a fit.
There's footprints of my life all over it.
We've been through a lot;
The good, the bad, it's seen it all:
If that chair could talk.
Imitation leather, pink Naugahyde:
Two-inch tear down the left-hand side.
more lyrics by Rachel Proctor
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