I heard of a place it's made of gold,
A place where we shall never grow old,
But one answer I have never heard at all,
Will there be paw prints from my little dog?,
He promised us joy right from the start,
I just wonder if he'll be a part,
So as I sit here and dream of a day,
I wonder if heaven he will stay?
When you walking down with saints of old,
Take a glimpse of that new road and if there you shall see,
Maybe a paw print just for me.
