Hannah, in, thoughts of her own,
Turned onto the skyway
Hannah, wife of Thomas Kite,
Died here yesterday.

Hear the children playing,
Hear the people speak
Looking out, of all their walls,
Screaming down the street.

Thomas, was inside his home,
Along the banks of June
Thomas, man, of Hannah Kite,
Sold his dreams too soon.

Look at stone's a flying,
Look at flowers cry
Look at he, who lost it all
Look at he, who'll die

Look at he all die