Lonely nights,
What a depressing thought,
What could I possibly say?
To give you a change of heart,
Don't make the mistake my friend,
He is coming near,
I can see the dark mists,
That floats in the chilled air.
My dear friend,
Step away from that cursed thing,
Before all hope is lost,
He is coming; can't you see the Scythe he brings?
He comes closer to us,
I can hear the cries of old,
Those scream from our nightmares,
From those stories we were told.
Can't you smell him my friend?
He smells like rotting death,
Even from far away he is close enough,
To steal the one thing we have left,
Please my friend let us go!
Before he takes our souls away,
Please my dear friend don't be a fool,
And run, so we can once again see the light of day.
My dear friend
Please drop that knife!
Don't thrust it through your ribs!
O, dear soul… Don't take your life.
I see him, he is coming closer,
His mighty weapon in hand,
Please for the love of God,
Please don't take the soul of this man!
The man who stood by me,
In my coldest hour,
The one who had every luxury,
Yet not one single power,
I bow down to you,
O, Great Being of Death,
He is still needed, if one must steal a life,
Let me make the theft.
I grabbed the knife,
He raised his Scythe,
I stabbed through my flesh,
He cut short my life.
I walk on my own now,
Moaning with all my might,
Hoping my friend, even though now you can't see me,
That maybe you can hear me,
On this cold lonely night.