SlightlySane
November 22nd, 2010, 11:33 PM
There lies a poor man, far under the ground
The grave stone now reads, "Good Roger McBrown"
A man of his word, his promise, his hope.
Good Roger McBrown faced death by a rope
He was still just a boy of twenty-four years
His age however, could not stop their old fears.
In a time back in days when ignorance was bliss
People would fear it when two men shared a kiss
Good Roger McBrown was born the wrong time
He should not have faced the year, of 1809
It was all just as shunned as a cheating man's wife
His kind didn't happen, not in this life
His parents rejected his braving of fear
A secret that slipped had slit their poor ears
"No son of mine could lie with a man"
Said Good Roger's father, an ax in his hand...
Here lies the man, "Good Roger McBrown"
His body lies deap, too far underground
Twas' not by an ax that death took this poor man
But by a lone rope, tied by Good Roger's bare hands
The grave stone now reads, "Good Roger McBrown"
A man of his word, his promise, his hope.
Good Roger McBrown faced death by a rope
He was still just a boy of twenty-four years
His age however, could not stop their old fears.
In a time back in days when ignorance was bliss
People would fear it when two men shared a kiss
Good Roger McBrown was born the wrong time
He should not have faced the year, of 1809
It was all just as shunned as a cheating man's wife
His kind didn't happen, not in this life
His parents rejected his braving of fear
A secret that slipped had slit their poor ears
"No son of mine could lie with a man"
Said Good Roger's father, an ax in his hand...
Here lies the man, "Good Roger McBrown"
His body lies deap, too far underground
Twas' not by an ax that death took this poor man
But by a lone rope, tied by Good Roger's bare hands