My dear old pain is in his death bed
and mourning comes in a haste
sits by my side, sheds some tears
Pats me on the left shoulder
Time flies by, old fellow
and we have to make it quick
so brisk do her tears trickle down
the weight lifted off her chest
by the invisible hand of time
the foe she shuddered to confront
But I hold my beloved pain by the hand
plant a mouthful of dry kisses on his lips
those he splashes with his tongue
Those that fan my fire with urgent pleas
But the scent of his evaporating blood
collaborates with the callous grasp of mourning
and the two unlock our burning lips
Now ruffled with the absence of my beloved pain
I stand back, to bid the mourning farewell
and dig my chest deep enough to bury
all the love I had for the gone soul
of my beloved pain..