Carry on, Carry on,
He died, nothing more to say.

His body stiff and white as petrified bone,
His bones sullen with sad experience.
Strife filled his day
As many sorrows as his hairs are grey
His late thoughts mired with remembrance
He did not talk as much as whisper and bemoan

“Carry on, Carry on,
Another Christian soul without a way.”

Think to other things, save death for tomorrow,
The player of the stage, or so I have read.
This man, a beggar for more, or for less
To worry of his life is meaningless.
The days will follow the night and he will remain dead,
And the earth continues to turn and there will be another tomorrow.

Carry on, Carry on,
I will continue my day.
Carrion, Carrion,
Tear this wretch away.