A Singer Must Die
A bunch of lonesome and very quarrelsome heroe
were smoking out along the open road
the night was very dark and thick between them
each man beneath his ordinary load
"I'd like to tell my story,"
said one of them so young and bold
"I'd like to tell my story
before I turn into gold."
But no one really could hear him
the night so dark and thick and green
well I guess that these heroes must always live ther
where you and I have only been
Put out your cigarette, my love
you've been alone too long
and some of us are very hungry no
to hear what it is you've done that was so wrong
I sing this for the crickets
I sing this for the army
I sing this for your childre
and for all who do not need me
"I'd like to tell my story,"
said one of them so bold
"Oh yes, I'd like to tell my stor
'cause you know I feel I'm turning into gold."
