作曲 : J Brel
 作词 : J Brel/M Shuman/E Blau
My death waits like an old roue
So confident, Ill go his way

Whistle to him

And the passing time...

My death waits like a Bible truth

At the funeral of my youth

We drank for that -

The passing time..

My death waits like
A witch at night

As surely as our love is right

Lets not think of that or the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do...

Angel or devil, I dont care

For in front of that door...

There is you.

My death waits like a beggar blind

Who sees the world through an unlit mind

Throw him a dime

For the passing time...

My death waits to allow my friends

A few good times

Before it ends

Lets not think about

And the passing time..

My death waits there, between your thighs,

Your cool fingers will close my eyes,

Lets not think about the passing time.

For whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do...

Angel or devil, I dont care

For in front of that door...

There is you.

My death waits there among the leaves

In magicians mysterious sleeves,

Rabbits and dogs, and the passing time...

My death waits there, among the flowers

Where the blackest shadows cowers

So lets pick lilacs

The passing time..

My death waits there, in a double bed

Sails of oblivion and my head

Lets not think about

The passing time.

But whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do...

Angel or devil, I dont care

For, in front of that door...

There is you.