His head couldn't contain the misery it had conceived And his heart burst from the pressure of his woes No more tears were to be shed - for he'd been happily grieved And lost already was the fragrance of those roses at his toes!
The echoes of the funeral song was a constant pain in his ears The last reminder of the wealth of his fears And even as his remains lay in state Nothing would his sorrows calmly abate
Their sorrows were halved when they cried And daily, the strength of their empty hearts was tried The dirge took them gracefully to another place And every image of their death, they were quick to embrace!
The purple curtain closed when he bowed his head to the crowd And the last tear coursed lazily upon his cheek His sorrows were - as the applause of the crowd - loud And so was the blood that from his heart was soon to leak
Every night was, but a weeping rehearsal A preparation for the wailing of doomsday The deepest tears heard the call of his soul And every stream flowed as if only to obey