I'm not asking for favors Not tonight I look up in the sky All the rockets fall down (fall down) Too many promises Too many lies Too many faces for me to know Sometimes I sit among the markers And contemplate my next life Says something less sympathetic A little more unconditional respect was buried here But it never lived and it never died It never came from them, it was always inside I don't care if time just passes us by I can stand the change But not the cruelty Too many promises Too many lies Too many faces for me to know Sometimes I sit among the markers And contemplate my next life Says something less sympathetic A little more unconditional respect was buried here But it never lived and it never died It never came from them, it was always inside (Spirits of the Dead by EA Poe - 1827) Thy soul shall find itself alone 'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy Be silent in that solitude Which is not loneliness- for then The spirits of the dead, who stood In life before thee, are again In death around thee, and their will Shall overshadow thee; be still The night, though clear, shall frown And the stars shall not look down From their high thrones in the Heaven With light like hope to mortals given But their red orbs, without beam To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee for ever Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish Now are visions ne'er to vanish From thy spirit shall they pass no more Like dew-drop from the grass