You never liked dark limousines,
Sunday mornings or crowded scenes.
I fell in line between the roses beyond silent gates,
it's like you to be late.
The chill of winter digs deep within,
you would have spared us the violines.
A trail of people from wayward places gather close,
steal the air, because you were there.
You should have seen us,
there was laughter in every tear.
You should have seen us.
Let the stories be told,
you would have loved to be this loved.
One family member started to sing.
Soon all others joined in.
A song you sang when you were down about holding up the ground,
giving in to the sound of life!
Printer Friendly Version
