Death is an angel sent down from above,
Sent for the buds of the flowers we love,
For each soul that blooms in this world, must decay
For each bud is a flower in the master’s bouquet.
Gathering flowers for the master's bouquet,
Beautiful flowers that will never decay,
Gathered by angels then carried away,
Forever to bloom in the master's bouquet.
Loved ones are passing each day and each hour,
Passing away as the soul of a flower,
Truly it’s so, for in heaven’s own, way
Each soul is a flower in the master’s bouquet.
Gathering flowers for the master's bouquet,
Beautiful flowers that will never decay,
There gathered by angels then carried away,
Forever to bloom in the master's bouquet.

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS