By Original Work
Just then %s old uncle zeke,
We fell down stairs in a mess,
With what a fix in our hearts,
And so I told them.
Through fields of gold we roam,
Where voices softly call,
The soul finds a home,
And bright shines through all.
Let hope fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For years beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So fell down stairs and pray, friends,
With what a fix filling each day,
Till dreams guide us home again,
And we find our rest for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.