Passings
Could you be with me in the starting?
Would you be ready for the parting?
The passing of the shadows
giving away to the worn
old tattered torn
light the candles in the mourn
Passings often happen,
see it all the time
put the hands to clappin'
put the feet to tappin'
do not enter the sublime
know that peace comes then
for the road there wearing thin
travelling stones to mountain
then falling to the canyon deep
death is only silent sleep.