CRACK-A-DACK-DACK,

above my head.

And the swans' necks snapped in unison.
Through each of the valleys and ever anon.
I am chased by the waifs and the hooligans.

I hide in the caves, but hither they come,
they steal and they sneak through the heath;
and as I lie broken, bent and alone .
I have come to this wretched belief:

That over the aeons - through centuries passed -
there are bones of all those that were lost;
for they, too, were buried and left for the wolves
in caves, that from life, they were tossed.

CRACK-A-DACK-DACK,

over my ears,

and the bullets leave holes through my head.
Please, somebody come, and gather the bones,
of me and all those that are dead.