Nose-diving Without a Parachute | |
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Nose-diving Without a Parachute
He who stands upon the cliffs, Is the same who jumps, Onto the rocks below he lands, Not to live ever again, The women mourn their loss, He was known as a gentle man, He died in such a violent way, The black crowd gathers around, Weeping over the oaken coffin, Flowers pay homage to his life, And to now sorrowed demise. |
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