I’m sorry. I’m so… weak. I just wanted you to put with me, I didn’t care what I had to do… I’ll commit the worst sins for one more chance… Even if it turned me into a monster; it wouldn’t matter… As long as I could have you back…
Oh,willyoucomewhenIcallyou? I’ll come when you call me I’ll call you at half past one; One’s for the pretty little baby that’s Born, born, born and gone away….
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen When you joined the great falling of 1916; Well, I hope you died quick, and I hope you died clean— Oh, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
