Tell Me, what is it like to be dead?
Is the viscera blue, does your blood run red?
holding Death's hand you walk with me
From cradle to grave, 1 2 3
Break the earth and raid the cradles,
eat the face of an infant son
daughters ripped from limb to limb
fear the flesh until the blood is gone
Children taunt your rotting tissue
now they squael like dying lambs
Youthful bones snap quickly
Tonight the fresh are fed to Death
Tell Me, what is it like to be dead?
Is the viscera blue, does your blood run red?
holding Death's hand you walk with me
From cradle to grave, 1 2 3