I Am Stretched On Your Grave

A recent post has been made concerning the song ‘Gloomy Sunday’; a song originally by a Hungarian composer which has been covered many times by various artists and has been linked to numerous suicides.

I realise completely that my last few posts have been largely music-related; whether they be comments or posts themselves, and I fear this shall be no different. But recently the desire to die has subsided somewhat, and has been replaced by simple contemplation of death. My scheduled death date still exists within the pages of my diary, but I currently feel little desire to commit suicide at this very moment in time; and indeed, during most parts of the day. And I feel that takes a great deal to say; but I cannot help but be honest. Today suicide is not as important as waking up tomorrow. An incredible melancholia doesn’t escape me; I still have scars on my arms, but I can see something at the end of it all. It will be interesting to see for how long this lasts.

Nonetheless, I wanted to share this song with you because the ‘Gloomy Sunday’ post inspired me and also I do not believe many people here will know of it. It is called ‘I am stretched on your grave’ and similarly to ‘Gloomy Sunday’ has been covered by numerous artists and provides contemplation about suicide. It apparantly is an old Irish folk song, and I think that it is beautiful and so wanted to share. The lyrics are as follows:

I am stretched on your grave
And I’ll lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we’d not sever
My apple tree, my brightness,
It’s time we were together
For I smell of the Earth
And I’m worn by the weather.

When my family thinks
That I’m safely in my bed
From morn until night
I am stretched at your head
Calling out to the air
With tears both hot and wild
For the loss of a girl,
I loved as a child.

Do you remember the night
The night when we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of the frost?
Oh, and thanks be to Jesus
We did what was right
And your maidenhead still
Is your pillar of light.

Oh, the priests and the friars
They approach me in dread
For I love you still
My wife, and you’re dead
I still will be your shelter
Through rain and through storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm

So I am stretched on your grave
And I’ll lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we’d not sever
My apple tree, my brightness,
It’s time we were together
For I smell of the Earth
And I’m worn by the weather.

And if you are interested in hearing it, there are several versions available on YouTube. For example:

Abney Park (Steampunk band): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbcrsOb9K64
Kate Rusby (perhaps the best at depicting the emotion): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=95I7t1znYFk
Sinead O’Conner (the most well-known version): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiGHGSsczjg

No Emilie Autumn version though : ( x