If you cannot do great things, do small things in a great way.
Oh Tell Me!
Bold baby born into a world so black It lacks the ability to be bright. Where in every bad trade there is a mad jack Ready to steal your smile in the night, So that he can hide it in his room- Where everyday he plots your doom.
How in your ignorance you have the sense To be happy and not like an old man tense Because he will soon step into his grave And enter back into mother natures womb. Whilst you many a year have to be brave To save the hearts of ladies from the tomb.
I’ll Tell You!
Old man who’s weak hands hold me in his frail arms Who’s back lacks the strength to stand tall and straight And who smells of the stink that shall always bait The lovely lady death to come your way. As she’s been attracted to all your charms So she’ll make you for your long life pay.
That i’m happy because long have i been dead In our mothers womb that’s also a tomb And i’d forgotten how much life has to give. Until now when i was born again Into a world in which there’s much to smile for.
Your life is ebbing away But do not worry Or feel sorry for the glory That tells a story of lost history.
Your life is leaving you But do not leave yourself exposed To the belief that you are relieved Of living.
You! That have been living For as long as I can remember
When Decembers have come and gone And the embers, of the fires in our chambers Have become members of the guild That assassinates our will to live.
Slowly but surely Your life is ebbing away Because transience has been clawing his way Into the paws of canines That bark to spark our lives alight.
You are dying. But do not worry. For I am dying too.
From the moment we vacated our mother's wombs We have been on a path to our tombs And whilst our inevitable doom Looms before us like Table Mountain We may find ourselves dining on memories Of tomorrows glory.