|
We keep on burying our dead |
|
We keep on planting their bones in the ground |
|
But they won't grow |
|
The sun doesn't help |
|
The rain doesn't help |
|
|
|
If my garden would have a fence |
|
Then the rabbits couldn't just come in |
|
And sit on the grass |
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And eat all the flowers |
|
And shit |
|
|
|
Hi, I'm Icarus |
|
I'm falling down |
|
Man for judgment must prepare me |
|
Spare |
|
Oh God, in mercy |
|
Spare me |
|
|
|
Man, I have a terrible feeling |
|
That something's gone awful, very wrong with the world |
|
Is it something we made? |
|
Is it something we ate? |
|
Is it something we drank? |
|
|
|
Hi, I'm Icarus |
|
I'm falling |
|
From the dust of earth returning |
|
Man for judgment must prepare me |
|
Spare |
|
Oh God, in mercy |
|
Spare me |
|
|
|
Lacrimosa |
|
Lacrimosa |
|
|
|
We keep on burying our dead |
|
We keep on planting their bones in the ground |
|
But they won't grow |
|
The sun doesn't help |
|
And all we've got |
|
Is a giant crop |
|
Of names |
|
And dates |
|
|
|
Hi, I'm Icarus |
|
I'm falling |
|
Down on this day of tears and mourning |
|
From the dust of earth returning |
|
Man for judgment must prepare me |
|
Spare, |
|
Oh God, in mercy |
|
Spare me |
|
|
|
Lacrimosa |
|
Lacrimosa |
|
|
|
Lacrimosa dies illa, |
|
qua resurget ex favilla |
|
judicandus homo reus. |
|
Huic ergo parce, Deus |
