Unless a wheat grain falls to the ground and dies.
It remains only a single grain but if it dies it yields a rich harvest.
If we proclaim the truth about death there are no lies.
We simply do not know what will happen with our eternal rest.

But this we know, we have to die to move forward.
So death of this body is no frightening thing.
But it frightens me, I’m sorry, I’m just a coward.
The clock moves forwards remorselessly, the hours time hourly. Ting, ting.

Will this body pass into total annihilation.
Will my essence be reborn in another human body’s soul.
Will it come to heavenly resurrection.
But anyway, that’s the end for this frail body of all toil.

I wish I had the courage of St Laurence.
But I do not, I remain a man of too little sense.