Why at this late hour
When the blood of our soldiers water the soil
And the sweat from our brows has fed the clouds
To dark, thick clouds, do Calvary come?

The infernal string's been plucked, the anthems sung.
So do not promise us the red Clover, for victory or not
The living soul's spirit has gone with the dead
And transformed them to living carcass

Arrive not dear salvation for all that I love lies here
let us fall with our soldiers and transcend with them
There's no greater Victory --or place for us no more--,
Except here, to be buried with the dead.

Kiss your dog goodbye. Oops; too late, sorry.
Life's for the living, love me instead.
You hugged yin, did you cherish her? or feel pity?
Each morning when lungs puffed up air in bed
Here I am. Here; I yang. Here I am --for eternity.
Blinding yet eye opening, I too want to be loved.

I bring together, what the earth has scattered.
Fear me not, but love me instead.
Fear me not at the hospital, I am The Healer of all.
So praise me in church, fear not my trumpet's call.
Drink deeply from my goblet, rejoice in my name.
I'm the ultimate cure, not an echo of shame.

Curse me not for I am good, love me instead.
They all despise me, why?, I; death.