Funeral Song Poem by Pierre Rausch

Your last walk came too quick prior,
Our last day at a mill revives,
Our last walk came too quick,

That day was composed of dawn
From one day to the other

Your last walk came too quick,
Our last date at the mill revives,
Our last walk came too quick in time,

Every brick that shines,
Our spaceship will not arrive on lune
You passed away far too soon

A dirge for the golf-club that limbs,
Such things are joy, such things please
Every nine men, worries
Every clearing, Every wheel in the board

A fuming song, for you my gone; fuming songs, you foregone
our last walk came too quick prior,
our last day at a mill revives,
our last walk came too quick prior,

any quarter, any speech, any speech,
every brick, every talk, every speech,
any bond, any bond, any speech,

A dirge for the peasant who isn't fine
A dirge for the grinder, it's overwhelming
Wear doesn't envy what seems

Your last walk came too quick prior
Your last spaceship revives, it
A dirge for the peasant