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A dreaded sunny daySo I meet you at the cemetry gatesKeats and Yeats are on your sideA dreaded sunny daySo I meet you at the cemetry gatesKeats and Yeats are on your sideWhile Wilde is on mineSo we go inside and we gravely read the stonesAll those people, all those lives, where are they now?With loves, and hates and passions just like mineThey were born and then they lived and then they diedIt seems so unfair, I want to cryYou say: "Ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn"And you claim these words as your ownBut I've read well and I've heard them saidA hundred times, maybe less, maybe moreIf you must write prose and poemsThe words you use should be your ownDon't plagiarise or take "on loan"'Cause there's always someone, somewhereWith a big nose, who knowsAnd who trips you up and laughs when you fallWho'll trip you up and laugh when you fallSongtexteYou say: "Ere long done do does did"Words which could only be your ownAnd then produce the text from whence was ripped(Some dizzy whore, 1804)A dreaded sunny daySo let's go where we're happyAnd I meet you at the cemetry gatesOh, Keats and Yeats are on your sideA dreaded sunny daySo let's go where we're wantedAnd I meet you at the cemetry gatesKeats and Yeats are on your sideBut you lose'Cause weird lover Wilde is on mineSure! Aus Songtexte Mania