• Rain down my back, a corps’ hand in mine,
    As I watched thee die by the fireside,
    Thy hand in mine, I cried my loneliness away,
    That night, I went into the hills,
    To live, to die, to never see thy face again is a sin,
    A crime against nature, a crime I committed,
    I cannot atone for what I hath done to thee,
    And so, with thy burnt body in mine,
    I carried thee to the hills.