What I found in harrow's field, (oh oh oh)
Were furrows, dark, that would not yield, (oh oh oh)
The vigilant digger will dig my grave
Of an earth made of things I cannot say
And build a cenotaph that stands
Where we once kneeled
Saying, "oh"
Saying, "oh"
I wish I was alive, I wish I was alive
Saying, "oh"
Saying, "oh"
I wish I was alive, I wish I was alive
But no one really is
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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