A dreaded sunny day So I meet you at the cemetery gates Keats and Yeats are on your side A dreaded sunny day So I meet you at the cemetery gates Keats and Yeats are on your side 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-a 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 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, <lora:amateurphoto-6version:0.8> <lora:Another_Amateur_Lora:0.4> <lora:Phlux:0.4> <lora:UltraRealistic_Lora_Project:0.4>
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