Little fly
Your summers play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away
And ended your day
Your summers play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away
And ended your day
Am i not a fly like you
Are you not a man like me
Oh i dance and drink and sing
Till some hand tears off my wing
If thought is life and strength and breath
And the want of thought is death
Then am i a happy fly?
If i live or if i die
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