Some would gather money along the path of life
Some would gather roses and rest from worldly strife
But I would gather children from among the thorns of sin
I would seek a little child with a big and toothless grin.
For money cannot enter in the land of endless day
And roses that are gathered soon wilt along the way
But oh, the laughing children as I cross the sunset sea
As the gates swing wide to heaven
I can take them in with me.