歌词
A wounded soul leaps highest
I've heard the poet tell
'tis but the ecstasy of death
And then the breath is still
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you near
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you here
The smitten soul that gushes
The trampled heart that springs
A wearied ghost that keeps running
From where the torment stings
Mirth is the prelude to anguish,
And laughter is its final aim
Lest some ****** spot the wicked
And do not fail to exclaim!
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you near
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you here
Success is counted sweetest
By those who never succeed
To comprehend a fame like this
Requires sorest need
Not one of all those ******s
Who rose the flag today
Can even tell the definition of fame
So pure, of victory