
The Kelly Song Collective
Don’t Lay Me Down
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My name it is of no consequence now
as if it had mattered anyway, anyhow.
It’s written in stone six feet from my bones,
misspelled and it’s fading. I should’ve known.
​
Born on June 2nd, 1953.
God saved the queen. She lived longer than me.
My crowning was tight. We fought through the night.
Her coronation was blinding and bright.
​
Don’t lay me down. I want to go ‘round.
​
I dreamed in the classroom. I learned in the street.
I fought in the school yard. I thought on my feet.
Factory work paid, and the wages I made
left my hands just as fast as the women I played.
​
I had a son born 1993.
His mother said once he is nothing like me.
I loved him ‘til death. My life was bereft,
cold as my lips, and blue as my breath.
​
I had a local where they knew my name.
I could have been somebody. No one’s to blame.
The architect died with my plans by his side.
I tried and I failed, and I failed and I tried.
​
I died all alone in a room that I rent.
The way I came in is the way that I went -
gasping for air. Death isn’t fair.
I forced out a laugh, and I stifled a prayer.
​
It’s seldom I feel a foot on my plot -
a scheme that I had, a path that I bought,
a route that I chose, a river that flows
into the future where nothingness grows.
​
The snow and the grass are obscuring my name.
Groundskeeper’s jealous. He keeps me from fame.
If you’re around, keep your ear to the ground.
I’ll I ll tell you the secret to life that I found.
​
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© Audsongs 2017

From Unless And Until, written years before.