Under the sod
that many trod
I lay asleep
My soul, the Lord does keep
Till time does pass
And eternity comes at last
I shall wait
As my body turns to worm bait.

My soul goes home to glory
Where I shall ever stay
And praise the one
Who is the Son
And to praise the Father
Who was my potter
And fashioned the body
That is now beneath thee.

’Twas a short life I lived
80 years the Lord did give
To me a gift
At times I squandered it
But never cease to ponder it
Why I was called to wander it
Would you please ponder it?