Patrik Fitzgerald
Текст песни My Death

My death waits like an old roue'
So confident that i'll go his way
Whistle for him
And the passing time...
My death waits like a bible truth
At the funerals of my youth
Where we laughed at that -
The passing time..
My death waits like
A witch at night
Just as surely as our love is right
Oh,let's not think about the passing time.

For whatever lies behind the door
There is nothing much to do now...
Angel or devil,well,i don't care
For,in front of that door...
There is you.

My death waits like a beggar blind
Who sees the world with an unlit mind