(no subject)
What is wrong young man?
The young man alone under the tress
It's the tree of the dead.
Why the dead you do lay with?
Don't lay on the discolored grass
The discolored grass is from you
If from you the red grass grows
The grass sprouts blood now on
From the now the grass grows off tears
Wiped off tears of blood from your body
But your body has run dry of tears
The tears left, I beg, leave alone
PLease leave only the scythe
For the scythe hurts you
It hurts you to live
But to live is to die
But to die from tears is far to sad
Much to sad for many
Though for many it was their last
Put their last behind, and rejoyce
PLease, and rejoyce with me.
And with me comes our last
Because our last was only the beginning
The young man alone under the tress
It's the tree of the dead.
Why the dead you do lay with?
Don't lay on the discolored grass
The discolored grass is from you
If from you the red grass grows
The grass sprouts blood now on
From the now the grass grows off tears
Wiped off tears of blood from your body
But your body has run dry of tears
The tears left, I beg, leave alone
PLease leave only the scythe
For the scythe hurts you
It hurts you to live
But to live is to die
But to die from tears is far to sad
Much to sad for many
Though for many it was their last
Put their last behind, and rejoyce
PLease, and rejoyce with me.
And with me comes our last
Because our last was only the beginning