Life is a little thing,

That comes and goes on silver wings,

Life is fragile and dies with ease,

It sits upon golden trees,

And tries to fly away form me,

it tries to flee form the sea,

But I do not let it.

It is mine to keep,

Let the little ones try to peek,

But life is mine to keep and need,

Let the dead plead,

I need not worry life is mine to stash away,

'Til the end of days.