Everybody wonders where you go when you die

Do you grow a pair of wings, take off and fly

There’s no true answer, no living person is sure

My guess is reincarnation, only if the soul is pure

A rabbit, an insect, a human or lion

Everything has a soul, when it dies they start cryin

A god, a Buddha, or whoever sits above

They look down upon you, sending much love

Goose bumps emerge, many say there from spirits

They pass through the body, you can’t see it nor hear it

Death is everywhere, people come people go

But they always stand beside you

And that’s something I know

So All in all ask yourself, where do you go when you die

Do you grow a pair of wings, take off and fly