I can hear voices round me singing,
bells of silver are a ringing,
time of sorrow,
time of dread,
i think its time to go to bed,
when i close my eyes i see,
golden gates awaiting me,
it is getting hard to breath the air,
the wind russles hair so fair,
lying on a bed so soft,
gazing round my comfy loft,
as i hear the voice of death,
i take one last dying breath.
