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The Proud Flesh
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Lord Don't Let Me
Lord don't let me write my own eulogy
I know that if I did that it would be the death of me
Don't wanna be the author of some awful prophesy
So Lord, don't let me write my own eulogy
Lord don't let them burn my paper effigy
I just know that if they did that it would be the death of me
I've tried the best I can Lord, I know that you'll agree
So don't let them burn my paper effigy
Lord don't let them hang me from that old willow tree
I just know that if they did that it would be the death of me
For narcissists and arsonists I've no apology
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Just Lord, don't let them hang me from that old willow tree
Lord don't let them draft me into the infantry
I just know that if they did that it'd be the death of me
Oh sticks and stones and IEDs and heavy artillery
Good Lord don't let them draft me into the infantry
Lord don't let them send the mounted cavalry
I just know that if they did that it would be the death of me
A thousand men with swords, just think of it my Lord
And don't let them send the mounted cavalry
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