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No people are uninteresting.
Nothing in them is not particular,
And if a man lived in obscurity
To each his world is private,
And in that world one tragic minute.
In any man who dies there dies with him
There are left books and bridges
But what has gone is also not nothing:
Whom we knew as faulty, the earth’s creatures
Brother of a brother? Friend of friends?
We who knew our fathers
They perish. They cannot be brought back.
And every time again and again
Music by Ardie Son - Folklore
No people are uninteresting.
Nothing in them is not particular,
And if a man lived in obscurity
To each his world is private,
And in that world one tragic minute.
In any man who dies there dies with him
There are left books and bridges
But what has gone is also not nothing:
Whom we knew as faulty, the earth’s creatures
Brother of a brother? Friend of friends?
We who knew our fathers
They perish. They cannot be brought back.
And every time again and again
Music by Ardie Son - Folklore
10,212 Listeners