I stand alone
Always prone
To see the miseries in life.
Sweet blood drips down
Across your crown
The fatal wound of a knife.
Your beautiful face
Revieles such disgrace
And all your mortal strife
If I had one more chance
To see you dance
Or hear you play your fife
Brave soldier I would
If I could
Warn you the end of my strife
Draws near,
Though already here,
As I take my life.