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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