Dancing On My Grave
Shine up those dancin’ shoes
The old man’s passed away
...
PSRNA
I would to write of things gone by
And wish that I had not lived
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Is there a Chariot Heaven bound
In which my troubled soul might lay
Or e’en a cask of fresh cut oak
To carry my remains away.
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Adam! Where Art Thou?
As the Holy net encloses
Unexamined deed and thought
...
When I leave
For the last time
Tell your Mother
That I loved her
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