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Death of Bellows
by
Ye Banished Privateers
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Light the bee's wax candles, cease your silly games Rest dancing shoes and swordplay, find comfort in King James Lay down your pipes and drum stick, break the fiddle's neck Silence every singer, quiet now on deck Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came Close the streets and gin mills, lay anchor in the bay Hoist the flag for sorrow as laughter hauls away Cut the tricorns feathers and wear the frock of dust Set the barge to shore as dreams begin to rust Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came Close the blood inked codex, erase now every page Unlearn the words of wisdom, forget the Golden Age Leave behind the stories, of rum and Liberty Chain those thoughts of reason, which would set us free Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came Tear down every mountain, lay dry the seven seas Slay the night and day, quelch that gentle breeze All that used to matter, doesn't any more Life has lost all shimmer, and joy has closed its door Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came See the pyres burning, where maties deeply bow The rivers on their cheeks in these times are allowed Lower down the coffin, a treasure six feet deep No more Bellows breathing, all music laid asleep Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came
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