Spare Me Over One More Year

Here come the people of the morning And the heat of the light What a gentle way of warning That I slept right through another night Death comes every evening Crying at my door Standing cold out on the sidewalk But I know just what he's looking for He's looking for a body That simplest to find And he thinks that he can have me But I know it's not my time When kindred souls are far away And the endless night is near These few words I often pray Spare me over one more year I never leave without a pen knife In my pocket or my hand For if I'm taken from this brief life It will not be from his hands