Saturday, an early fall day, I wake up with a smile.
  Nine o'clock's our flight, tonight we'll finally be in New York.
  Coffee and a cab ride, my bride-to-be waits by the curb
  She is looking great - by 8:15 we're ready to fly.
 
  On the plane above the rain, we plan details of our stay.
  Gonna go take in a show at the Palace Sunday night.
  Monday to the zoo and MOMA, then late dinner downtown.
  Then the day I'll say what I've been waiting six years to say.
 
  Amy's Dad's some kind of chef
  on the hundred-seventh floor.
  Famous place called Windows on the World.
 
  I called him up a week ago.
  Told him that we'd be in town
  And I planned to pop the question there.
 
  He told me, "you can use the room
  early Tuesday, if you want.
  Amazing place to ask her for her hand.
  You've gotta get there early, though.
  'Cause we'll have a crowd by nine.
  But 'til then you'll have it to yourselves."
 
  How could I possibly know, speeding through the sky
  Amy's Dad would die?
  While waiting there, for his daughter and me
  He wouldn't have a prayer, and he'd never know why.
 
  As we circled to land, and excitement welled in my heart
  High on things we had planned, I couldn't wait to start my new life
  live with my wife by me.
 
  Waiting on the plane, we couldn't know that Monday night
  A fight outside of our café would leave a man without an eye.
  We would stay with him until we knew he'd be all right.
  The doctors saying he'd be okay, well after dawn we'd say goodbye.
 
  And fly across town, late for our date in the sky.
 
  As we sipped champagne and danced in our room
  I could not foresee the end.
  Up the subway stairs at Cortlandt Street, she'd call her Dad,
  "We're almost there.
 
  I can't hear you, Dad, just wait until this plane goes by."
 
  Tuesday at her father's mosque I'd pray
  And Saturday would stay the best day of my life.



Music and lyrics copyright © 2003 David M. Wesner.  All rights reserved.