.Engel weinen, schreien still über Ruhestätten, seh durch Tränen
Silhouetten, die meine Eltern betten, blick zurück durch trübe
Augen, die den toten Acker wässern, nutz die Schmerzen von
Gestern, um mein Morgen zu verbessern.
Mein letztes Geleit, Worte der Dankbarkeit, werd euch.
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