Lyrics: Harry Connick, Jr.. Maybe.

Maybe far away or maybe real near by
He may be pouring her coffee
She may be straightening his tie
Maybe in a house all hidden by a hill
She's sittin', playin' piano
He's sittin', payin' a bill

Betcha they're young
Betcha they're smart
Bet they collect things like ashtrays and art
Betcha they're good
Why shouldn't they be?
Their one mistake was giving up me

So maybe now it's time
And maybe when I wake
They'll be there calling me, baby
Maybe

So maybe now this prayer's the last one of its kind
Won't you please come, get your baby
Maybe