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The Smiths - Cemetry Gates lyrics
A dreaded sunny day So I'll meet you at the cemetery gates Keats and Yates are on your site A dreaded sunny day So I'll meet you at the cemetery gates Keats and Yates are on your site While Wilde is on mine. So we go inside and we gravely read the stones: All those people, all those lives, where are they now? With loves, and hates, and passions just like mine They were born, and then they lived, and then they died Seems so unfair - I want to cry You say "'ere thrice the sun [hath] done salutation to the dawn" And you claim these words as your own But I've read well and I've heard them said a hundred times - maybe less, maybe more. If you must write prose and poems, the words you use should be your own - don't plagiarise or take on loan. Because there's always someone somewhere with a big nose, who knows. Who'll trip you up and laugh when you fall Who'll trip you up and laugh when you fall. You say "ere long done do does did" Words which could only be your own And then produce a text from whence was ripped Some dizzy whore, eighteen hundred and four! A dreaded sunny day so let's go where we're happy, and I'll meet you at the cemetery gates [oh] Keats and Yates are on your side A dreaded sunny day so let's go where we're wanted and I'll meet you at the cemetery gates Keats and Yates are on your side But you lose - because weird lover Wilde is on mine |
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