The Hour Of Death - Reverend Bizarre

Written by：Albert Witchfinder

I think

I must be doomed

I don't feel at all well

My

God

Have

Mercy upon me in this

Hour of

Death

I pray for thee to take my life

Instead of the one

I so dearly love

Her face is pale like

The ivory

Of the distant realms

And

As I hold her hand in mine

I clearly feel it's turning cold

Like marble or snow

Remembering

The days of joy

Not so long ago

Those memories

Just increase grief

As I watch

The withering of beauty

How can it be

That tomorrow

She's not here

And

I remain

There has to be some kind of way

We can be

Together again

Together again

As she fades away

Like statue you

Made of clay

All I wish

Is to be

In grave with her

Slowly transforming

Back into dirt

Deep

Under the sacred ground

No one will be able to

Part us now