By Original Work
A funny %s old uncle zeke,
We fell down stairs on a spree,
With awful fix in our hearts,
And so ends my tale.
Through fields of green we roam,
Where whispers softly call,
The soul finds a home,
And gentle shines through all.
Let laughter fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For time beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So fell down stairs and dance, friends,
With awful fix filling each day,
Till dreams guide us home again,
And we find our home for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.