Andrea . . . Andrea Ruth
Love of my life,
my immaculate wife.
Lift your head to the sky.
Do not grieve;
do not cry.
For it was time for Lucy to fly,
and since God allowed this,
we have no reason to ask why
God reigns over everything,
but we do know death can sting
It has no hold on the princess no more
Oh please, my sweet dear sister, look to the Lord!
You are beautiful, and wonderfully made
Death and life both have no mistake
Jesus grooms his garden,
or picks a young bud
Whatever he does,
he does it in love
Papa has sent her away,
in peace and beauty she is to stay
Join the jubilee,
stop the fray
See the hope like
the hibiscus leaves blooming in May
My sweet, wonderful, sexy Andrea Ruth
Do not let trial and grief create you aloof
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