Some would gather money
along the path of life
Some would gather roses
and rest from worldly strife
But, I would gather children
from among the thorns of sin
I would seek a golden curl
and a freckled toothless grin
For money cannot enter
in that land of endless day
And roses that are gathered
will soon wilt along the way
But, oh the laughing children
as I cross the sunset sea
And the gates swing wide to heaven
I can take them in with me
Sunday, December 2, 2007
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