his eyes they closed and his last breath spoke he had seen all to be seen a life once full now an empty vase put the blossoms on his early grave walk away my boy and by morning we’ll be free wipe a golden tear from your mother dear and raise whats left of the flag for me then the rosary beads count one two three fell apart as they hit the floor in a garb of lack we must pay respect to the color were born to morn
