Sweet is the stench of the dead.

Sweet the sound of silence.

Gone are their souls – heaven-fled

Finding peace amidst our violence.

The streets are strewn with the dying –

Each battle swells their number –

My ears can't forget their crying

No escape can I find in slumber.

But why should we endlessly grieve,

When the dead are the truly free?

In this mortal life, we're deceived.

Now listen you, and pay me heed:

Life is the chain.

Sin is the ball.

Love is our pain.

Truth is the key, 

Death is the fee.