Countee Cullen - In Memory Of Col. Charles Young lyrics

Along the shore the tall thin gra**, That fringes that dark river, While sinuously soft feet pa** Beings to bleed and quiver. The great dark voice breaks with a sob Across the womb of night; Above your grave, the tom-toms throb And the hills are weird with light. The great dark beast is like a well Drained bitter by the sky, And all the honeyed lies they tell Come there to thirst and die. No lie is strong enough to k** The roots that work below, From your rich dust and slaughtered will A tree with tongues shall grow.