The past is the past though to memory not dead
And the now is all that matter as is often said
And who is to say what the future will bring
I hope life is in me to welcome next Spring
The great gift of life is a marvellous thing
And i hope to be here when the nesting birds sing
And pink or white blossoms bloom on the fruit bearing trees
And butterflies are dancing in the sunshine and breeze
On the length of any human life there is no guarantee
The Reaper of lives too will claim my greatest gift from me
But i want to live for as long as i can
And to die without pain as a very old man
When Spring is in the air and the nesting birds sing
The great gift of life is a beautiful thing.
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