Into the green, below the wisp
Where sunlight burns starch,
I will find a way to blow my horn
Playing Burial March.

One two three and six
goes my count beyond ink
Navy caps and army hats
tossed on the ground,
I will blow my horn
Sing Along
Playing Burial March.

When living started and came the bee
Counting days back to eternity
Have not found joy

Men killing men
Women verbally bound once again
History slaughtering itself in the city of Troy

But i'll be Bathsheba Everdene
And loose myself in the madding crowd
And i'll blow my horn

Two three nine and ten
Meet me in the soil again
Below the grass and dirt

Blow my horn
draw me on walls
Unto Burial March.