Life
How precious is the morning hour.
How priceless is every flower
The blooms along my way
Ask me not to sell my day
Even though the minutes sour
And turn bitter I will pay
And take my share and lay
It up and keep it there
With all my power.
How precious is the morning hour.
How priceless is every flower
The blooms along my way
Ask me not to sell my day
Even though the minutes sour
And turn bitter I will pay
And take my share and lay
It up and keep it there
With all my power.