So few words to say
So many things yet to do
So many books to read
And paintings to paint

So many animals to love
So many funerals to attend
So many prayers to give
And trees to plant

The wind blown wet streets
The helicopter flying by
Don’t feel like speaking
Can’t cry
Stop selling me your unlabeled goodbyes

So many doors slamming
So many bills
So many adventures yet to come
And possibilities to ponder still