A solid pine A crocus that shines A liberty mine Enwrapped in a shrine A poet who cut Words from a leaf We climbed up a horse And felt some relief And love is a power That gives us belief A ray of light that Your soul to keep We see White Horses Views blowing our mind A helter-skelter A bitter decline Whitened hair A fear that we share Wrinkled skin Mortality's care A faded cross An enigma we lost The curtains drawn We bear our own cross And the people may wonder Why God's left them alone? The wind is burning There's so much smoke Coz you're coughing up blood now The poem has ceased And the soil is all over me I'm six feet deep