43 days until I go to my home
A place full of love
And where I can roam

Oh to see those smiles
On a darkly colored face
Even through the trials
Of a desolate place

43 days until the river fills my soul
Running with the children
The joy is worth the toll

The feel of the painted fingers
As we walk through the city
A horrid smell that lingers
My stomach churns with pity

43 days then the passion is a fire
Music from the streets
The spirit of these people will never tire

The sweet taste of sugar cane
How it lingers in my thought
Growing in the fields of daily rain
It’s the way of life being taught

43 days until my spirit is cleansed
Washed clean with the joy
Which comes from within

Oh to hear the praise coming from the pews
Of the worshiping faithful
The extent of bad news
Can never make them ungrateful

43 days until peace in my soul
43 days until I am made whole