R.I.P. - Trouble

Looking through the window of destiny

Casement open to the skies — no more lies

Rosemary nods upon the grave

Could’ve been saved

From the garden of the brave

She cries

Rest in peace

Soft may the worms about him creep

Never heard the children weep — he’s asleep

Rosemary nods upon the grave

Could’ve been saved

From the garden of the brave

She cries

Rest in peace

When saints go marching down the hall

Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall — when pigs call Rosemary nods upon the

grave

Could’ve been saved

From the garden of the brave

She cries

Rest in peace