When the End Comes

Lay me not down in the busy town,

Where the clouds of smoke float high;

Where, saving at dawn, of the early morn,

You catch not a glimpse of the sky.
 

Lay me not down with the sculptured stone,

To heavily press on my breast;

Let my coverlet be the yielding loam,

In nature’s green mantle drest.

Lay me not down where the willow’s tears,

Shall gloomily fall on my bed;

But, put me to sleep where the wild flowers creep,

Making bright the dark home of the dead.

Written by: John Hartley.

Read by: Vanessa Attard

Performed by: Pope Crool, WOUND & DEA DISCORDIA