Bury the dead
in a long winter's sleep,
but scour the hills
for the lost little sheep

The ones you let go of
from when we were kids
The ones that God gave you
as life's greatest gifts

Alive in your heart
they certainly must be
Buried between all the “I's”
and the “me's”
If you look hard enough
you surely will see
that innocence He gave you
was not lost in rough seas

Through whispers of time
and hands reaching out
With eyes full of tears,
there arose such a shout
that even those lost
could never ignore
Not even in slumber
or work
or at war

We've wandered a desert
alone and afraid
Yet somehow we've stumbled
back into God's grace
and arms that are loving
and out to embrace
all who would enter,
so for that we give thanks