Slow Death Grave
All now are ashes, ashes
And they all fall down
Calloused palms and round shoulders
Mud clad with dirt and sweat
From long days alone in this darkness
In tiny rooms of black and crumbling walls
Beneath the grey sky
Toiling day and night,
To open wide the great mouth of the earth
To take back what once was dust
And wo will return to dust
All now are ashes, ashes
And they all fall down
Brought upon a decrepit cart
Of rotting wheel and crooked shaft
These twisted shapes of sallow limb
Through sunken trampled paths of mud
They do not feel, this one last embrace
As I carry them, one by one, to rest
And I sprinkle lime upon their faces
Those once loved, once hated
Those of blood and kin
All now are ashes, ashes
And they all fall down
