The red labeled bottle on the table The room in the hotel with the hunting pictures Yellow streaks on his face. Death by misadventure Temporary insanity The greatest disgrace to have in the family
They say the man who does it is a coward But it is not for us to judge
More dead for them than for me More dead for them than for me
A sudden death The best death A moment and all is over Then shovelling them under the cartload doublequick.
Every mortal day a fresh batch Saltwhite crumbling mush of corpses Pallbearers, gold reins, requiem mass, firing a volley. His last lie on the earth in his box.
If little Rudy lived. If I could see him grown Hear his voice in the house. My son. Me in his eyes. Strange feeling it would be. From me. I could have helped him on in life.
Would he bleed if a nail cut him in the knocking about? I suppose the circulation stops. Still some might ooze from an artery. It would be better to bury them in crimson
Both ends meet The coffin dived out of sight All honeycombed the ground must be The blood sinking in earth gives new lifeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
