You'll die and be not happy This has ever been the score Some of you for want of nothing Some of you for wanting more Little boots did bind my painted toes I coddled your devotion Now I've nightly conversations With the mountains and the ocean I'm the lake I am the loom I'll take your eye with a spoon I have swords as well as islands I can make you feel your dying try me A perfume from a foul disease From here to there I've walked the seas But even feats as bold as these Grow tiresome and dreary O I have felt what love can do Love can't mend a broken shoe I don't covet love from you You would better fear me We're a scar that was a wound And puckered too soon I have swords as well as islands I can make you feel your dying try me Bring the poets from their brews March them me two by two Have them know the theme is "death" Then let them sing it new The well of wisdom is a fast latrine The tree of love is sappy Have I told you ever darling How men die and are not happy? When the last holly blooms I'll fornicate with the moon I have swords as well as islands I can make you feel your dying I have swords as well as islands I can make you feel your dying try me