by Patti Smith. . In the straw-colored light. In light rapidly changing. On a life rapidly fading. Have you seen death singing. Have you seen death singing. With a throat smooth as a lamb. Yet dry as a branch not snapping. He throws back his head. And he does not sing a thing mournful. Have you seen death singing. Have you seen death singing. Have you seen death singing. In the straw-colored light. He sings a black embrade. And white opals swimming. In a child's leather purse. Have you seen death swimming. Have you seen death swimming. With a throat smooth as a lamb. Yet dry as a branch not snapping. He throws back his head. And he does not sing a thing mournful. Have you seen death singing. Have you seen death singing. Have you seen death singing. In the straw-colored light. He sings of youth enraged. And the burning of Atlanta. And these viral times. And May ribbons streaming. And straw-colored curls a-turning. A mother's vain delight. And woe to the sun. And woe to the young. Another hearse is drawn. Have you seen death singing.