All men kill the thing they love
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By all let this, by all let this be heard [x2]
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I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye
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Upon that little tent of blue which prisoners call the sky
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And at every drifting cloud that went with sails of silver by
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In Reading Gaol by Reading town there is a pit of shame
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And in it lies a wretched man eaten by teeth of flame
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The man had killed the thing he loved
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And so he had to die
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All men kill the thing they love
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By all let this, by all let this be heard
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Some kill their love when they are young
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And some when they are old
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Some strangle with the hands of Lust
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Some with the hands of Gold
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The kindest use a knife, because
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The dead so soon grow cold
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And there, till Christ call forth the dead,
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In silence let him lie
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No need to waste the foolish tear
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Nor heave the windy sigh
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The man had killed the thing he loved
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And so he had to die
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All men kill the thing they love
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By all let this, by all let this be heard
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All men kill the thing they love
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By all let this, by all let this be heard
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Some do it with a bitter look
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Some with a flattering word
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The coward does it with a kiss
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The brave man with a sword
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The man had killed the thing he loved
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And so he had to die
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All men kill the thing they love
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By all let this, by all let this be heard
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Wilde Love
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| King Charles |