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  • No mourners will come in somber clothes
    Upon the death of my soul
    No tear-stained cheeks or laden brow
    Will mark the silent day

    No pungent bouquet will be displayed
    Upon the death of my soul
    No hand picked box with polished rails…
    No hymn to fill my vault

    No kiss will touch my waxy flesh
    Upon the death of my soul
    No pall to bear…no place to rest
    No lengthy prayer to ponder

    My body lives…I go on
    Upon the death of my soul
    All feel comfort for I am here
    I fill a space…but I am gone
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