In Heaven what shall I do?
All I really know is to praise you
You made the flowers and the sod
And the dance and you heal all our pain
In your own special way
Keep your son Autumn safe in the Middle East
And help us to feed your children without enough to eat
And hear the cries of needs unmet
Thank you for this day
Bless Mama and Papa and little Lance
Bless the poets
And the singers and the people who know not what they do and those that sit
And do nothing.
I worship thee.