The sinners they sin and the believers they pray
But in the end we all die anyway
Some are cremated and put in an urn
Hotter than hell the bodies they burn
Others are wrapped and cast off a boat
Fishermans' blessing to carry them home
Some are fixed in poles up high
Cast ablaze with possessions spirits ary
Egyptians are wrapped in cloth and honey
Cats and dogs they had gold and their money
One way is not better than others
All born the same the womb of our mothers
The rising of April has made its rouse
As the clattering song of a mating grouse
Sweet gentle breezes echoing spring
The morning dove wistfully sings
Sepia fields of unmade soil
Waiting patiently to be toiled
Sleeping bulbs awake to treasure the sun
A new journey of life has began
New born wildlife greet the day
A new generation struggle to stand and sway
Creeks emerge and glisten while passing on their jaunt
Dancing tulips smile with grace and flaunt
A time to cast off a shivery flavor
And salute a season that can be savored