Are we all destined In escaping our fate, To run a perfect circle Into the jaws of Death, Whom we sought to escape? For Death is an old man-- I have seen him many times, He is a gibbering idiot, But he loves us all, And his beckoning call Leads us all willy-nilly To his embrace which is forever. For he knows not why he loves-- Don't you see him in some dusky corner Of the room, his fingers dangling As he waves and the drool spits From his quivering jaw; He moans and sighs and his eyes Are filmed with dull stupidity. But he loves us all-- Now he beckons and we must come. He doesn't know what love is and yet He loves us and never lets us go. Ah! Death is so senseless.
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