Epitaph

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