Texty: Edith Frost. Ancestors.

When we go to glory
When our time is over
Will we stand unspoken for
When the light becomes too blinding

When my ancestors come to meet me
They?ll have questions about my drugging
They may look on my enemies kindly
When my life becomes a memory
Will my ancestors meet me up there

They may look upon me
They may take it badly
All the men I used to love
All the things they won?t approve of

When my ancestors come to meet me
Well I hope that they welcome me there
They?ll forgive me forgetting their names
When the place becomes too frightening
Will my ancestors meet me up there