From the cradle to your dying breath

Let the love in your heart guide you

Save only the good and discard the rest

Don’t let the small troubles define you

Cry at the moon while you still can

For it just might be your last dance

Far too soon you could meet the end

And you will cry for one more chance

Smell the scent of morning glories

That hangs about the front porch wall

For what blooms the brightest in the spring

Is often the first to wither and die in the fall