Quiet morning - Sunday morning
Little church in the country waits
Winding wild rose clings tightly
Smooth brown pews worn with age
Songs lifted to heaven in chorus harmony
Windows bending sunlight in blazing colors
Hearts lifted lighter than air
Handshakes and smiles bountiful
A child expects so much from life
Who robs hope and steals tomorrow's dreams?
Who dulls the windows and quiets the songs?
Who pays the dues in this golden plate?
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