What will they think of me when I am dead,
The thought entered into my head,
Will I be missed by anyone,
When time’s caĺled and I am done.
I’m often found to be alone,
Or sat with drink having a moan,
A furrowed brow and seldom smile,
Happiness, it’s been a while.
So in answer to my thought,
My life is done, my leson taught,
I leave the world as it I found,
Alone, just earth, under the mound.