Sing a song of sixpence.

The things that
nights are made
from are mares.
What lies behind the truth
but a road getting there.
For every hello
there is a goodbye.
Between birth and death
is life so they say.
Does every song
have a melody
or are we just
finely tuned?
While sing a song
of sixpence is...
all about money.
Does everyone bare
a shadow?
Does wit start from it?
Is the answer the start
of a question?
Will the end
be the end
or a new beginning?
Who knows but
sing a song of sixpence!