But whatever is behind the door and there's nothing left to do
But whatever is behind the door and there's nothing left to do
My death is in your arms, your thighs
An angel or devil, I don't care for in front of that door, there is -you
And magician's mysterious leaves, rabbits and dogs
When the passing time
My death hides all among the flowers
Whether angel or devil, I don't care, for in front of that door, there is you
Let's not talk about
Let's pick lilacs for the passing time
My death is like a beggar blind, I'll see the world with an unlit mind
Throw me a dime for the passing time
Shades of oblivion run through my head, pull up the sheets
Your cold fingers will close my eyes, let's not talk about
My death is in a double bed
My death comes to allow my friends a few good times, before it ends
Where the darkest shadow cowers
But whatever is behind the door and there's nothing left to do
My death is like a witch at night, as surely as all love is blind
Let's drink to that and the passing time
My death is all among the fallen leaves
My death is like a [incomprehensible] truth at the funeral of my youth
Let's laugh at that and the passing time
