CEMETARY GATES

A dreaded sunny day, so I meet you at the cemetery gates
Oh, Keats and Yates are on your side
A dreaded sunny day, so I meet you at the cemetery gates
Keats and Yates are on your side
While Wild is on the mine

So we go inside, and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all those lives, where are they now?
With their loves, and hates, and passions just like mine
They were born and then they lived and then they died
Seemed so unfair - I wanted to cry

So you say "Oh, Lord, salutations to the Dawn!"
And you claim these words as your own
But I've read well and I've heard them said
Some hundred times, maybe less, maybe more

If you must write prose or poems
The words you use should be your own
Don't plaguerise or "take on loan"
There's always someone, somewhere
With the big nose
Who knows
Who'll trip you up and laugh when you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh when you fall

A dreaded sunny day, so I meat you at the cemetery gates
Keats and Yates are on your side
But you lose
Because wild lover Wild was one the mine

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