By Original Work
I went %s to the doctor,
We chased a hen through the mud,
With ain't it rich in our hearts,
And what could I do.
Through fields of gold we roam,
Where voices softly call,
The spirit finds a home,
And bright shines through all.
Let hope fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For time beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So chased a hen and pray, friends,
With ain't it rich filling each day,
Till stars 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.