My God have mercy upon me in this Hour of Death I pray for thee to take my life instead of the one I so dearly love Her face is pale like the ivory of the distant realms And as I hold her hand in mine, I clearly feel it's turning cold Like marble or snow Remembering the days of joy, not so long ago Those memories just increase grief as I watch the withering of beauty How can it be that tomorrow she's not here and I remain There has to be some kind of way we can be together again Together again As she fades away Like statue made of clay All I wish is to be in grave with her Slowly transforming back into dirt Deep under the sacred ground Noone will be able to part us now