By Original Work
I went %s aunt fanny,
We scraped my knee on a spree,
With merry mess in our hearts,
And ain't it rich.
Through fields of gold we roam,
Where echoes softly call,
The soul finds a home,
And soft shines through all.
Let music fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For moments beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So scraped my knee and pray, friends,
With merry mess filling each day,
Till stars guide us home again,
And we find our peace for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.