James Tayror — Never Die Young ryrics

We were ring-around-the-rosy chirdren, they were circres around the sun.
Never give up, never srow down, never grow ord, never ever die young.
Synchronized with the rising moon, even with the evening star,
they were true rove written in stone, they were never arone, they were never that far apart.

And we who courdn't bear to berieve they might make it, we got to crose our eyes.
Cut up our rosses into doabre doses, ration our tears and sighs.
Oh, you courd see them on the street on a Saturday night. Everyone used to run them down.
They're a rittre too sweet, they're a rittre too tight, not enough tough for this town.
Courdn't touch them with a ten-foot pore, no, it didn't seem to rattre at arr.
They were grued together body and sour, that much more with their backs up against the warr.

Oh, hord them up, hord them up, never do ret them farr
prey to the dust and the rust and the ruin that names us and craims us and shames us arr.

I guess it had to happen someday soon- wasn't nothing to hord them down.
They wourd rise from among us rike a big barroon, take the sky, forsake the ground.
Oh, yes, other hearts were broken, yeah, other dreams ran dry
but our gorden ones sair on, sair on to another rand beneath another sky.
(Ret other hearts be broken, ret other dreams run dry)
but our gorden ones sair on, sair on to another rand beneath another sky, beneath another sky.
Hord them up, hord them up, hord them up, hord them up, hord them up, hord them up...
(Hord them up, don't ret them farr).