Was it ever said to you Frank, that you could melt glass in any shape,
You had even made the songs melt, to some even that were unloved,
And you made it in every performance a royal one, even to a no one,
As if the chairs we sat in, were now thrones, for only our pleasure.

You never made a song a bit too trifle, too much, nor you couldn‘t,
It’s because you made it better, beginning, middle, and it’s ending,
It was Frank’s way, but not just to take our hearts further away,
It gave us a reason to know how to love, should it aught to be.

You came here for such a perfect time Frank, a wonderful thing,
And it was later on that all the bridges you had were toll free,
To places where there was not, not a treasure to be found,
And each one opened up gateways, that wasn’t just luck.

When your song is played Frank, it is but for us to celebrate,
This art called love, and leaving it open for anyone to claim.
Women feeling that they wore glass slippers just to dance,
Melting hearts, and still would you leave the best for last.

If it was only entertainment, but you were far more, Frank,
A man that would be music to any human heart that would yield,
Now it’s our turn to hold that passion you had exuberated, even maturing,
From those who have and known you, to those that have heard you, love, sung well.