By Original Work
My wife %s old uncle zeke,
We slipped on ice in a mess,
With what a fix in our hearts,
And ain't it rich.
Through fields of green we roam,
Where songs softly call,
The soul finds a home,
And warm shines through all.
Let laughter fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For days beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So slipped on ice and dance, friends,
With what a 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.