Is prattling at its grandma's knee shall say
In future years that of all days it holds
In the most sacred memory the one
When it officiated at
The funeral of this Turk. And now
Lest some one shall say I knew not how to die,
Let the ax fall.
Is prattling at its grandma's knee shall say
In future years that of all days it holds
In the most sacred memory the one
When it officiated at
The funeral of this Turk. And now
Lest some one shall say I knew not how to die,
Let the ax fall.