Touched softly by the silent hand,
Of which we all await,
Friends gather in his house,
But they've come to late.

The long car comes to take him,
Down narrow streets they drive,
Mother looks at daughter,
Shared emptiness inside.

The four men who best knew him,
Shoulder a corner each,
Wife heads to the alter,
And cries throughout her speach.

Brother puts arm on sister,
Lending supportive hand,
Father turns to little boy,
Too young to understand.

We lower him into the hole,
Take turns to through some dirt,
He nutrifies the soil,
Causing him rebirth