Death Of Bellows

(álbum: Hostis Humani Generis - 2020)

Light the bee's wax candles, cease your silly games
Rest dancing shoes and swordplay, find comfort in King James
Lay down your pipes and drum stick, break the fiddle's neck
Silence every singer, quiet now on deck

Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust
As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came

Close the streets and gin mills, lay anchor in the bay
Hoist the flag for sorrow as laughter hauls away
Cut the tricorns feathers and wear the frock of dust
Set the barge to shore as dreams begin to rust

Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust
As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came

Close the blood inked codex, erase now every page
Unlearn the words of wisdom, forget the Golden Age
Leave behind the stories, of rum and Liberty
Chain those thoughts of reason, which would set us free

Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust
As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came

Tear down every mountain, lay dry the seven seas
Slay the night and day, quelch that gentle breeze
All that used to matter, doesn't any more
Life has lost all shimmer, and joy has closed its door

Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust
As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came

See the pyres burning, where maties deeply bow
The rivers on their cheeks in these times are allowed
Lower down the coffin, a treasure six feet deep
No more Bellows breathing, all music laid asleep

Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust
As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came
Ashes to ashes, dust turn into dust
As thou returneth to the grave, out of which thou came