Lirieke: My Dying Bride. The Grief Of Age.

The terror of being left alone never leaves me
Unspeakable woes gather me up forever
To your breast, morbid weather

Watch this face, still a child
Eyes red raw, aching and tired
Issue your delicate voice
Sing through me, men are twice boys

Children waking fears of the supernatural
Choke their simple thoughts
And crush our simple minds
I feel sometimes a hell within myself

The terror of the piled earth
Hiding me will end this man forever