There’s ice above me and there’s ice below,
Ought I to dive or pop up like a cork?
To love and hope never saying “no”,
Awaiting visas, I must work and work.

This ice will crack and out I will clamber,
All sweaty like a tiller, poor thing...
I will come back to you and I’ll remember
The life we lived and songs I used to sing.

My age is young - I’ve crossed my forties slightly,
I’m saved by you and God twelve years long.
God calls me up. I’ll sing to the Almighty.
He will acquit me having heard my song.