I give my life every day
Chisel, polish, make it rough
White stone, grey stone
I've had many customers
Writers, presidents,
Officers, workers
Old maids, young nuns
Primadonas and madams
They look like in Heaven
When life has ended
My hands soothe them
They last in stone forever
My friends, grey stone knows
I'm a stone mason, since I was born
Stone is my bread and cross
I'm a stone mason, chisel and scar
All great and reach people
Poor and vile
Were worked with my hands
Written in stone
They were once, not more
Went into Heaven
Grey rock is a hard stone
Ancient bread and penance
Loves and follows my hand
When I make a dent or remove it
With a hammer or chisel
My soul is in it...