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The Lower Road

Cut me down,

Bury this rosary

Somewhere out of town,

Somewhere out by the sea

And take this ring,

Give it to Emily

And tell her I'm peaceful now,

Tell her I've been released

I will be rolling on, I will be rolling on . . .

Well I know that drill,

I know it all too well

Starts like a lonely voice

And shifts to a tolling bell

Like rain on a dusty ground

Small bones in the driest well

The spark breathes a fiery tongue

And the tongues kiss the cheek of Hell

I will be rolling on, I will be rolling on

I've had my part to play, now I am going home . . . .

There's no telling which way boys

This thing is gonna take hold

From the fruit on a poplar tree

To the bruise round a band of gold

From the blood in a far country

To the war of just growing old

We travel a lower road

And it's lonely and it is cold

And we will be rolling on, We will be rolling on

We had our part to play now we are going home

We will keep rolling on

We will keep rolling on

'Cause for every midnight hour

There's always a rising sun . . . .

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