CONOR AYLWARD
DEAD BOYS THOUGHTS

Slowly at the breaking of the morning The mourning begun The drum beats And the marching started The families heads Hung low The new born dead Crucified Before he could walk Saving the family scorn For the words he would talk Lowly they stalk The coffin Afraid to talk Joining the never ending litany of sorrows As the priest saves our repeated sins As the coffin is lowered The words are choked By their throats And something begins to cry Joining the never ending litany of sorrows As the priest saves our repeated sins


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