God saw you getting trired
And a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around you
And whispered, "PaPa Come to me".
With tearful eyes we watched you,
And saw you slip away.
And though we love you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hands were put to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes the Best.
|
|
|
|
