"Lord, help my poor soul"
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Lyrics
Gone are the days of quiet solitude/I feel inclinded to take my time/where are these mournfull verses coming from/not in reason half as much as in rhyme/ Ive seen the sorrows of so many years/and precious loved ones laid to rest/It seems I am a parody of everything that tortures me/ and yet I take my place among the best/ frail is my world which I take pity on/ I tire of its toils and long for sleep/these days the words don't come as easily/ inspirations scarce and liqour is cheap/ I see my weahtered face grow older now/ old age is making me unsure/ and while my virtues suffocate the reaper comes to seal my fate/ and rob my soul of all thats good and pure
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