They say only the good die young But good is as old as the sung that is sung How could God need a human more When we still have so many poor? How long should a good life last Before God begins to judge our past? Maybe a saint pays no further wage As they embark upon old age Good works mask the heartache For all the sacrifices they must make In their silent pain they continue to give So others may have comfort as they live Only God decides when it is his turn to care And he will replace what Earth can no longer bear For an earthly angel it is to be what we all know They will reap for what God sees as they sow
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