G)Death is an angel sent (C)down from a-(G)bove, sent for the buds of the flowers we (D)love. (G)Truly it's so, for in (C)heaven's own (G)way, each soul is a flower in the (D)Master's bou-(G)quet. (chorus) (C)Gathering flowers for the (G)Master's bouquet, beautiful flowers that will never de-(D)cay. (G)Gathered by angels and (C)carried a-(G)way, forever to bloom in the (D)Master's bou-(G)quet. (G)Loved ones are passing each (C)day and each (G)hour, passing away as the life of a (D)flower. (G)But every bud will each (C)blossom some (G)day, will bloom as a flower in the (D)Master's bou-(G)quet. (chorus) (G)Let us be faithful till (C)life's work is (G)done, bloom like a flower till the reaper has (D)come. (G)Then we'll be gathered to-(C)gether some (G)day, transplanted to bloom in the (D)Master's bou-(G)quet. (chorus)
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