Lyrics

My death is like A swinging door A patient girl who knows the score Whistle for her And the passing time My death waits like A bible truth At the funeral of my youth Weep loud for that And the passing time My death waits like A witch at night And surely as our love is bright Let's laugh for us And the passing time But whatever is behind the door There is nothing much to do Angel or devil I don't care For in front of that door There is you My death waits like A beggar blind Who sees the world with an unlit mind Throw him a dime For the passing time My death waits To allow my friends A few good times before it ends Let's drink to that And the passing time My death waits in Your arms, your thighs Your cool fingers will close my eyes Let's not talk about The passing time But whatever is behind the door There is nothing much to do Angel or devil I don't care For in front of that door There is you My death waits Among the falling leaves In magicians, mysterious sleeves Rabbits, dogs And the passing times My death waits Among the flowers Where the blackish shadow cowers Let's pick lilacs For the passing time My death waits in A double bed Sails of oblivion at my head Pull up the sheets Against the passing time But whatever is behind the door There is nothing much to do Angel or devil I don't care For in front of that door There is you
Writer(s): Mort Shuman, Eric Blau, Jacques Roman Brel Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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