I’m thankful for this cool breeze,
That’s caressing My hair.
As I sit in my backyard,
On my Acapulco chair.
The birds are singing sweet songs,
The sun is low in the sky
I’m thankful for the air I breathe today,
Come tomorrow, its time to die.
And like the fallen autumn leaves,
In death, whose grace survives.
I hope my words will carry on,
And live a thousand lives.
.
.
.
That’s caressing My hair.
As I sit in my backyard,
On my Acapulco chair.
The birds are singing sweet songs,
The sun is low in the sky
I’m thankful for the air I breathe today,
Come tomorrow, its time to die.
And like the fallen autumn leaves,
In death, whose grace survives.
I hope my words will carry on,
And live a thousand lives.
.
.
.
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