I was in a rather foul mood when I composed this ditty.
S
A Bough on the Burying Ground © Solomon 2003/2011
I can’t help you right now
I can’t show you the way
won’t worry ‘bout your troubles
if you stay out’a mine
I could tell you right now
I’ll spell out the story
but that would worry both our dreams
just the way they make you cry
No rest for the wicked
no rest for the brave
no rest but in death
play the pipes on the burying ground
throw a bough of ivy on the grave
I know where to find you
y’know where to find me too
we won’t worry ‘bout your troubles
stay well away from mine
No rest for the wicked
no rest for the brave
no rest but in death
play the pipes on the burying ground
throw a bough of roses on the grave
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