Dying Song - Metal Allegiance, Philip H. Anselmo

I hear them asking

Will I play the caretaker

To your little grave?

There’s no longer reasons why

You’d be denied the things that you’ve requested bravely

And you’d be treated with the honor

Due a conquered long-timer

In the midst

Sight

Is a very precious sense

For those who’ve endured the blind

Life

A different form of life

Has a different form of death not withstanding

This dying song

This dying song

They say he had no heart

Just a big hole in his chest

They got it wrong in part

Trust me, we knew the blighted test

The test of tests

It was fate

The ilk have died like flies

And that fever moves with the swiftness

Out of date

When the face does leave the face

It’s death’s clutching fingers upon

This dying song

This dying song

This dying song

This dying song

History tells us

It’s always the same

When fire rages

On that little grave

No longer reasons

To be denied

They got it wrong

A dying song

This dying song

A dying song

She needs a doctor

Or an undertaker

Believe the mocker

Death-tripped forsaker

Death-tripper

Forsaker

Death-tripper

Forsaker

Death-tripper

Forsaker

Death-tripper

A dying song sadly mistaken

This dying song

This dying song