Out of Tune
No fingers now draw from it chords
That it once formed, each one like words
Now only insects and birds
Dwell among its strings
And only birds from within
To those outside sings
No more airs of romance
Play as on the keys fingers dance
As a young man gauges his chance
Of a damsel nearby
Who to the music hums
Oblivious to his wandering eye
And we someday the piano shall be
A similar state our bodies will see
Though birds not dwell within maybe
And maybe yes!!!
After our day when it is done
And we to God our sins confess.
Let us when that time is here
To decay and rot let us not fear
It matters not after our time how we appear
Be not be dismayed
When alive, make sure like the piano you
Are often merrily played!
