|
They shed their precious tears |
|
wept the loss of life |
|
the absence of bright days |
|
unable to see the beauty of death |
|
so elegantly decayed |
|
In long ranks they marched |
|
surely towards peril and doom |
|
and the orchestra played a desolate song |
|
as they willingly went to their tomb |
|
A miserable pack of wrecked souls |
|
all danced to the ghastly graveyard bell |
|
a funeral theatre a heavenly play |
|
but the stage is set in hell |
|
It is for creatures of divine origin |
|
a story allready told |
|
but still this horrid painful drama |
|
is hideous to behold |
|
Disease, disease, disease and pain |
|
by dementia and fever made sick. |
