I will not let my song pull down, sneer At the fallen, or praise the strong.
My song will not live in the palaces – But roam, free, in the bazaars and the beaches.
I will let my song fly kites, and soar And mess with the clouds and play with the rainbow.
I will cuddle my song when it is sad Seeing a hungry dog, or an old beggar.
When I am old and weak and cranky, My song will be there to soothe me, I hope.
And when I am no more around, You will look at my song, and remember me And when I am no longer around, My song will make you smile, and I will be happy. ***