Busy little ants,
Coming and going...

To my Father up above,
With all my heart I Love...

Only to see your face,
In my secret place...

What is that smell?
Where's it coming from...

Do you hear them calling?
Cookies and Milk, Cookies and Milk...

Feeble hands old and sore,
not as strong anymore...

I saw her today,
it had been weeks...

Covered from head to toe,
with Arizona dust...

People have asked me,
how did I come up with the name...