Da capo every year

Time moves quickly
On a Sundays
A lot of things
To be done
A lot of family
To interact with
Family diners
And the annual
Easter torture week
Every year the man
Dies on a Friday
And is reborn on Sunday
Every year I do not
Know what to do about it
What would have happened
If he instead of going to
Jerusalem that pitiful pit
On a mountain slope
He decide let us go
To Tel Aviv
Have a beer
Let´s make som miracles
By the sea
Putting our bare feats
In the warm sand
And watch the ocean
What would Easter be then?

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