My Death

My death waits like an old roue'

So confident, I'll go his way

Whistle to him and the passing timeMy death waits like a Bible truth

At the funeral of my youth

Are we proud for that and the passing time?My death waits like a witch at night

As surely as our love is right

Let's not think about the passing timeBut whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do

Angel or devil, I don't care

For in front of that door there is you