SKIN50
“THE ORANGE FLAVOR”
No longer mourn for me when I am dead / Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell / Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell. Nay, if you read this line, remember not / The hand that writ it, for I love you so / That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.