Samuel John

Once there was little Samuel John,
Who played the piano all day long.
Every day he'd sit at his chair,
And play you a tune just right from the air!

"Brother, my friend, I have wrote you a song!
Something to show you how much I do care
How much I do love you, that you're for me there"
He smiled as he sat, and played me his song:
A wonderful chorus with every verse!

Sweet little brother was only thirteen
When off to the city he had to go.
Music would play then down sterile halls
And into the wards where hearts were then warmed.

Then little Samuel's music did stop!
"To bed he must go now or 'morrow give up!"
So lay down his head then did Samuel John.
No more could he play then, too weak for to move
His heartbeat did slow then, but his smile still shone through!

Sad it is knowing that we all must go;
That Sam's not here to play what he wrote.
Sit as I might to play all his songs,
I dare not strike a single note!

Poor little Sammy, poor Samuel John.
My brother, my Sammy, my Samuel John.
Asleep now forever, my Samuel John.