Swing High, Sweet Child.
When you awake,
Do you smell the fresh air?
When you arise,
Do you rejoice your sacred life?
Standing tall, looking in a fixed stare,
Cutting away, sharp as an blood stained knife,
Swing high sweet child,
The Earth is here forever,
Swing low little darling,
Watch as the branchs sway,
Will seize to be drained,
Rejoices in a sweet symphonic praise
When you die,
Will you miss the fresh air?
When you fall,
Will you forget the true beauty of life?
Will continue to stand and stare,
Will continue cutting, this time a clean knife.
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