Lifes a cigar: the wasting body glows;
The head turns white as Kosciuskos snows;
And, with the last soul-fragrance still in air,
The ashes slowly sink in soft repose.
Lifes a Cigar
written byGeorge Gordon McCrae
© George Gordon McCrae
Lifes a cigar: the wasting body glows;
The head turns white as Kosciuskos snows;
And, with the last soul-fragrance still in air,
The ashes slowly sink in soft repose.
© George Gordon McCrae