See the blooming of the flowers
When the spring first appears
Hear the crying of the baby
In its first tender years
Watch the flight of the robin
When he knows winter's through
And the One who made that robin
Is somewhere watching you
Watch the people pass the beggar
On the street as he cries
See the rich man with all his money
Ah, but still he complains
Smell the flowing of all the whiskey
Lord, we oughta be ashamed
