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Life After Death

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Apr. 29th, 2008 | 04:34 pm

We musn't fret over diseases we've caught,
or the sons we have lost, the battles we've fought,
We musn't dwell on the pity of loss
for every body is eaten by moss
The deserts will shake and the moon will fall
and the milky, pale doves will continue to call
The saviors will come and lead us astray
by pulling our ears towards whatever they say
Every last body will lay on the ground
every one of the mightiest ships will be drowned

We will return everything that we've bought
saints will be saved and thieves will be caught
Every dry drunk will succumb to the sauce
and the workers will have their day playing the boss
Every last soldier will give up the brawl
seeing it's better to love than to maul
The priests will continue to bless and to pray
children will run naked and continue to play
And under the coffin you will hear the sound
of the very last king who will ever be crowned.

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