The Question If

Our life slowly ebbs away We all live from day to day The aristocrats just like the poor Must all die that is for sure. Like a simple ash tree leaf Our stay on this Earth is brief Just like the leaves we fade away We quickly wither and decay. In my mind I have no doubt There is a god somewhere about The place he live I know not where But one thing sure I know he's there. Is there a heaven is there a hell? I don't know it's hard to tell But one thing for certain you must agree Is we all must die when'er that be. The rich all powerful and secure To fight for them have got the poor On sunny beaches the rich folk lie Whilst poor souls sons in wars do die A young boy in a city slum Sits on a doorstep chewing gum Does prosperity await this lad Or must he join the dole queue like his dad? . Even when you kneel to pray The question if gets in the way If tomorrow I am dead Let my epitath be read.