L'art de Mourir - Sigh

A black cloud covers the night, I hear not a sound

I see not a light, Bodies on bodies

(so cold with) their empty eyes

Left unburied, waiting to be burned

Fire on the filthy death is the only light that I can see

No sign of life, just the smell of death

No sign of breath, the line of the dead

Death after death, impending demise

Fire after fire, unwelcome demise

Death after death, millions of bodies lie

Fire after fire, with hopeless cries

Invisible shadows everywhere

Raping and reaping the souls of millions

Millions of demises and hopeless cries

(With) their sharpened scythes, another dies

The filth once alive, left and shunned

Cold and silent, hunted and preyed

To the dark we’ll all be sent

Burn the funeral fire high

Burn it higher to the sky

Burn the funeral fire

Burn it up higher, as bright as the sun for which we yearn

Burn the funeral fire, burn!

Burn it higher till (their) return!

Burn the funeral fire, burn it up higher

But I know that I will wait for my turn

Why should I?

A Black cloud covers the night

I hear not a sound or see not a light

Bodies on bodies

(so cold with) their empty eyes

Left unburied, waiting to be burned

No more place to bury the sorrow

In our sight (only) the fear to follow

For us, the cursed, in this hell, there’ll be no tomorrow