Epitaph کے بول

The first time I died, I walked my ways.. I followed the file of limping daze.. I held me tall with my head flung up But I dared not look on the new moon's cup I dared not look on the sweet young rain And between my ribs was a gleaming pain I dared not look on the sweet young rain And between my ribs was a gleaming pain The next time I died, they laid me deep They spoke worn words to hallow my sleep They tossed me petals, they wreathed me fern They weighted me down with a marble urn And I lie here warm, I lie here dry And watch the worms slip by, slip by I lie here warm, I lie here dry And watch the worms slip by, slip by Lie warm, lie dry Lie warm, lie dry Dry, dry