You lost the fight, for
the grip on your life.
As i enter the hall there's a
picture of you on the wall.
An organ plays in the background
of your favourite song. Your coffin
now is where you belong.
The worst thing the vicar
could say, is that your better
off this way. I stroke your face,
I touch your hand. My only words
of comfort are that now, you are
in God's land. I'll think of you
everyday, when i laugh and when i play.
I pray for you everyday and i wish that you
never had to go away.