A song left midway, a work incompletely done,
Putting everything owned in a bag,
Blundering back to God he had gone.
Mysterious paths his hopeful heart once again trod.
And a mountain of pain and peace he won.
Why won't his hand you take and soothe his heart?
A truant passionate fool he has become.
How hard can the bread of life be to understand?
Your ways, your love and passion for mankind;
Why in school must we forever remain?
