
Like the way rain washes all dirt,
taking them to places not known,
death’s an end with one beginning;
That beginning’s to an end prone.
All we have is time that’s running.
Like the way rain washes all dirt,
taking them to places not known,
death’s an end with one beginning;
That beginning’s to an end prone.
All we have is time that’s running.
With a smile contagious and words much thoughtful;
My spirits you lifted, shared stories soulful.
Now you lie sadly dead, your soul though is high;
In heaven rejoicing, but on Earth I cry.