inherit the wind

miller said to his son
you'll inherit the wind
to the father he said
please forgive, I have sinned
to his grandson: abide
here's my beautiful blade
to the wife by his side
please do not be afraid

then he passed as we do
but the windmill kept on
milling oatmeal and rye
till his dutiful son
took his place on that bed
and confessed he had sinned
but he passed without saying
inherit the wind