Saturday, 22 March 2014

18th January 2011


Have mercy, Lord, have mercy
Upon this dying cat
Whose life You're taking back early
And should in three days flat
For it was just a baby
Whose heart was just as pure
And I don't ask that maybe
You might provide a cure
For one whose end was near
But that it might not suffer
But angel voices hear
As each last breath gets tougher
And vision slowly fades
Of waiting men with spades,
As vision slowly fades
Of waiting men with spades.



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