BRING OUT YOUR DEAD THE WATCHMAN CRIED
IN THE CITY WHERE HE WAS RIDING
ON A CART PILED HIGH WITH LAST YEARS DREAMS
AND LONG REMEMBERED ANGERS
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
THIS CITY THAT WAS ONCE SO FAIR
WHOSE WALLS WERE WHITE AND RIVERS CLEAR
WHERE MEN WALKED OUT ALONE AND UNAFRAID
HAS BECOME A STINK HOUSE OF REMEMBERED PAIN
AND PENT UP SORROW
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
LET WINDOWS ONCE MORE OPEN TO THE BREEZE
AND PIPERS PLAY NO MORE THE FUNERAL MARCH BUT GAY
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
THAT MEN MAY SAY ON PASSING BY
A FAIR CITY THERE PLEASING TO THE EYE
AND HEAR
THE LAUGHTER RINGING IN THE AIR
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
FRANK A VOLLMER
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