I’ve wandered ‘round,
From home to home.
And found one truth,
All stones erode.
Whether wind, or rain or steel pick-axe,
All stones erode,
It’s just a fact.
So when I lay, for my final rest
I have to say I think it’s best.
Forgo a stone, that will not last.
But plant a tree, Oak, Fir or Ash!
For as time passes, and memories go,
All stones erode, but the tree will grow.