The Grave Man at His End

The Grave Man at His End   The grave man is a giant by his weigh.As a child he wore suitcoat, tie, and hatA Pharisee demanding his fair say. A dust cloud follows from his stomp and swayAnd storm clouds when he deems to have a chatThe grave man is a giant by his weigh. The children stop their prattling and playWhen grave man’s shadow falls where they are atA Pharisee demanding his fair say. And when he puts a small smile on displayThe curs and cats will skitter and will scatThe grave man is a giant by his weigh. He never gives a kiss or a bouquetHe always takes a tit for every tatA Pharisee demanding his fair say. So Dylan, he does not go gently, nayHe thinks he has eternity down pat.The grave man is a giant by his weigh.A Pharisee demanding his fair say.