My candle burns at both ends
Life isn't all beer and skittles; few of us have touched a skittle in years.
She is happy where she lies With the dust upon her eyes.
I had a little sorrow, Born of a little sin.
So up I got in anger, And took a book I had, And put a ribbon on my hair To please a passing lad. And, "One thing there's no getting by -- I've been a wicked girl," said I; But if I can't be sorry, why, I might as well be glad!
Martyred many times must be Who would keep his country free.