
Words can’t match the flowers so happy here.
Take love to your own heart,a souvenir
The poet can sing until you feel you’re real
The love of beauty helps the heart to heal

Words can’t match the flowers so happy here.
Take love to your own heart,a souvenir
The poet can sing until you feel you’re real
The love of beauty helps the heart to heal

I saw my house uprooted like a tree
Great roots were severed, how I ached to see
And all was tossed without my love and care
Bits of earth fell from the roots. now bare.
Barbaric in its mad intensity
I wept the tears of grief for you, for me.
Our home attacked,destroyed and I lie here.
Putting out the flames with profuse tears
Lamenting for my love who died within
The collapsing of my world now with no sun
The house a symbol of our marriage true
Cannot stand without a me and you
So my vision passed and I am here
My memories are my only souvenir