Pick up the Soap. [PIKUP]

Do not go gentle into that good night,<br>Old age should burn and rave at close of day;<br>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br><br>Though wise men at their end know dark is right,<br>Because their words had forked no lightning they<br>Do not go gentle into that good night.<br><br>Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright<br>Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,<br>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br><br>Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,<br>And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,<br>Do not go gentle into that good night.<br><br>Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight<br>Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,<br>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br><br>And you, my father, there on that sad height,<br>Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.<br>Do not go gentle into that good night.<br>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.