By Original Work
A funny %s me not to drink,
We lost my pants for a bite,
With funny business in our hearts,
And ain't it rich.
Through fields of amber we roam,
Where voices softly call,
The memory finds a home,
And soft shines through all.
Let hope fill the air,
And light fill our souls,
For time beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So lost my pants and sing, friends,
With funny business 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.