A body is washed up on a Norfolk beach,
He was a friend that I could not reach.
He thought I was cold, but I understand,
But for the grace of god goes another man.
And I may just waste away from doing nothing,
But you're a martyr for even less.
A choirboy is buried on the moors
Where we used to go dreaming when we were bored,
So some kids are best left to fend for themselves
And others were born to stack shelves.
And I may just waste away from doing nothing,
But you're a martyr for even less.
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