15 septembre 2017
The caretaker
"When a funeral comes the people cry and pray
They bury their dead and they all go away
They bury their dead and they all go away
But through their grief I still can see
their hate and greed and jealousy
So here I work and I somehow hide
From a world that rushes by outside
And each night when I rest my head
I'm contented as the peaceful death"
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