Dying Song (feat. Philip H. Anselmo)

I hear them askin Will I play the caretaker To your little grave? There's no longer reasons Why, you'd be denied The things that you've Requested bravely And you'd be treated With the honor Due a conquered long-timer In the midst Sight... Is a very precious sense For those who've endured The blind Life... A different form of life Has a different form of Death not withstanding This dying song This dying song They say he had no heart Just (a big) hole in his chest They got it wrong in part Trust me, we knew the Blighted test The test of tests (It was) fate... The ilk have died like flies And that fever moves with The swiftness (Out of) date... When the face does leave The face... It's death's clutching fingers Upon... This dying song This dying song This dying song This dying song History tells us It's always the same When fire rages On that little grave No longer reasons To be denied They got it wrong A dying song This dying song A dying song She needs a doctor Or an undertaker Believe the mocker Death-tripped forsaker Death-tripper Forsaker Death-tripper Forsaker Death-tripper Forsaker Death-tripper A dying song sadly mistaken This dying song This dying song