Monday, February 23, 2009

Six Sorrows??

For the crown of our life as it closes
Is darkness the fruit thereof dust
I'll send to you one thousand roses
But for me it is Vegas or bust
Sweet, sorrowful Cupid he dozes
As we love when we can and we must

So we do what we can't for we must
And we hope for a window for each door that closes
And we watch as the guardian of our age, as he dozes
And we watch the world rust into dust
We're hollow and carved like a pitiful bust
A deadman, a gravestone with roses

We walk to the stage with fair roses
As the woman, she does what she must
We say that we're there for the acting; in truth we are there for the bust
And she cries as the curtain, it closes
And she sobs and her mouth feels like dust
For her love slumbers always - in heaven he dozes

We watch as our child dozes
And we fill up her hair with red roses
And we watch as she tumbles in dust
And we cry, but we do what we must
We must get there, for early it closes
In the doctor's, her heart we must bust

Like a damn about to bust
When the fingerboy dozes
They sob as his last eye, it closes
And it floods all the beautiful roses
And they cry, but they do what they must
Where now stand rivers there once was dust

So all things end, in the wind we are dust
And all we build will break and bust
And we know we get our judgment, for God must do as He must
When the good man of the world idly dozes
For the righteous in heaven are roses
And the rock above the villainous, it closes

So this world it closes, as was said "dust to dust"
No more wind, no more rain, no more roses, no more painting, nor bust
For the wicked man everlong dozes, but the good man will do what he must

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Yo! Be honest, folks.