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Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head And as I climb into an empty bed Oh well. Enough said. I know it's over - still I cling I don't know where else I can go Oh ... Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head See, the sea wants to take me The knife wants to slit me Do you think you can help me ? Sad veiled bride, please be happy Handsome groom, give her room Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly (Though she needs you More than she loves you) And I know it's over - still I cling I don't know where else I can go Over and over and over and over Over and over, la ... I know it's over And it never really began But in my heart it was so real And you even spoke to me, and said : "If you're so funny Then why are you on your own tonight ? And if you're so clever Then why are you on your own tonight ? If you're so very entertaining Then why are you on your own tonight ? If you're so very good-looking Why do you sleep alone tonight ? I know ... 'Cause tonight is just like any other night That's why you're on your own tonight With your triumphs and your charms While they're in each other's arms..." It's so easy to laugh It's so easy to hate It takes strength to be gentle and kind Over, over, over, over It's so easy to laugh It's so easy to hate It takes guts to be gentle and kind Over, over Love is Natural and Real But not for you, my love Not tonight, my love Love is Natural and Real But not for such as you and I, my love Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my ... Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head Oh Mother, I can even feel the soil falling over my head Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my ...
Beethoven's gone, but his music lives on, And Mozart don't go shopping no more. You'll never meet Liszt or Brahms again, And Elgar doesn't answer the door. Schubert and Chopin used to chuckle and laugh, Whilst composing a long symphony, But one hundred and fifty years later, There's very little of them left to see.
They're decomposing composers. There's nothing much anyone can do. You can still hear Beethoven, But Beethoven cannot hear you.
Handel and Haydn and Rachmaninov Enjoyed a nice drink with their meal, But nowadays, no one will serve them, And their gravy is left to congeal.
Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds With their highly original sound. The pianos they played are still working, But they're both six feet underground.
They're decomposing composers. There's less of them every year. You can say what you like to Debussy, But there's not much of him left to hear.
Claude Achille Debussy-- Died, 1918.
Christophe Willebald Gluck-- Died, 1787.
Carl Maria von Weber-- Not at all well, 1825. Died, 1826.
Giacomo Meyerbeer-- Still alive, 1863. Not still alive, 1864.
Modeste Mussorgsky-- 1880, going to parties. No fun anymore, 1881.
Johan Nepomuk Hummel-- Chatting away nineteen to the dozen with his mates down the pub every evening, 1836. 1837, nothing.