Michael's bones. Lay where he fell. Face down on a sports ground. Oh .... He was just somebody's luckless son. Oh but now look what he's done. Oh look what he's done. . Your gentle hands are frozen. And your unkissed lips are blue. Your thinning clothes are hopeless. And no one was mad about you. . Michael's bones. Were very young. But they were never to know. Oh .... Impetuous fun. Mr. Policeman. I don't know where you get such notions from. . His gentle hands are frozen. And his unkissed lips are blue. But his eyes still cry. . And now you've turned the last bend. And see - are we all judged the same. at the end?. Tell me tell me. . Oh you lucky thing. You are too brave. And I'm ashamed of myself. As usual