Mr Greg James Lacy

The clock of life is wound but once
And no-one has the power
T o say just when the hands will stop
The year, the day, the hour.
T o lose your wealth is bad enough,
T o lose your health is more
T o 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.