On the way to work,
Route taken every day,
Over a hill, driving fast,
Car ran him down,
His scream,
What he heard last.
Sitting in the study hall,
Thinking about basketball.
In came a man,
Gun in his hand.
That is the last he saw.
Skiing down the slope,
Picking up speed.
Sun in his eye,
Tree he did not see,
Let out a cry, then he did die.
Was they ready,
Did they want to wait.
There is always another day,
First we want to play.
Jesus is going to call,
Answer it now,
You may not get another
chance at all.
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