One cause, one reason.
We are the ones that take care of you,
Your story is told with our voices,
Still like stagnant water you lay on this table,
We have found you, cleaned you up, and dressed you up,
For a final eye is upon your face,
The pine hinged box is your home now,
Sleep now, six-feet down,
All wonders and worries should pass,
The smell is sweet, the pillow soft, no eye upon your appearance,
Your story is told with our voices to the world. . .