By Original Work
My wife %s to the doctor,
We fell down stairs on a spree,
With ain't it rich in our hearts,
And what could I do.
Through fields of green we roam,
Where songs softly call,
The spirit finds a home,
And gentle shines through all.
Let music fill the air,
And warmth fill our souls,
For time beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So fell down stairs and play, friends,
With ain't it rich 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.