Eric Stubbs
The clock of life is wound but once And no-one has the power
To say just when the
hands will stop
The year, the day, the hour.
To lose your wealth is bad enough, To lose your health is more
To lose your soul a tragedy
That no-one can restore.
Today alone you call your own
To do with as you will
Don’t count upon tomorrow friends
The hands may then be still.
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