Musicbox

Ashes to ashes dust to dust
Her swing set chains have turned to rust
Her playground gone and made anew
Her photographs in shades of grey
Felt strangely heavier that day
They were ashamed of what they hid

Her broken music box still plays the
same songs it played before
Her rocking chair remains intact
As cobwebs slowly stop the
spinning courses of little horses
Her rocking chair remains intact

The priest got up in suit and tie
He crossed himself and closed his eyes
Prayed for luck and prayed for rain
The people all got up to sing
Their favorite thousand year old hymn
The words were all underground