The wagon’s a’ rollin, pulled by horses in twain;
Our eyes are still stinging from the tears of our pain
Saddled up and mounted, his buddies ride in rank;
Leading the horse always known as ol’ Hank.
We lost you too young, so much life left to live
It will never be known what there was left to give.
Hearing the news and feeling the pain
Only hurt harder near where you’ll be lain.
The load on that wagon of course, it is you.
Missed will you be by all of us, too.
Rest well ol’ buddy, in God’s prairies of the sky
We’ll see you again, when we join you on high.
Smile down on us often and bend the Lord’s ear
To watch o’er your family and all you hold dear.