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Who are you, my friend,
That you should be so proud?
For you will find your worth is nothing
When you're laid within your shroud.
People then no more will praise you
And will soon forget your name;
Tho' the world will move on around you,
You'll remain the same.
Tho' you're nice and people like you
And you've made a lot of dough,
Someday you will lie beneath the clover,
For,my friend, we all must go.
Money, friends,or fame or other
Will not keep you from this meeting,
For somehow they will seem as nothing
As your last moments they go fleeting.
Tho' you are full of sadness
And your heart is full of sorrow,
You then will pray and pray your hardest
For just one more tomorrow.
You wonder as your end is nearing,
Just what death is like--
Is it painful? Is it lasting,
Or will it quickly strike?
Is there really a hereafter,
Should I try to prepare
To meet this man called Jesus,
Who has a home so fair?
Yes,these thoughts you will be thinking
As you take that last tour;
So make it right with Jesus now,
For it pays to be sure.
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