Baskadia

Ode To Death

There you’re death, how proud you look,

As if you always win

But to tell the truth, it was a fruit

And eating was their sin

No harps or drums when you’re near

The souls refuse to sing

For young and old, the tame and bold

All perish by your sting

It is you, oh death, who puts an end

To all the time we roam

That ugly rose that brings us close

To our eternal home

Yet there’s one thing that you should know

That’s in the prophet’s pen

Though in the dirt, for what’s it worth

Somehow we’ll live again