The full moon stands over my head,
as, tired and drunk, i wish for my bed.
In vain I searched for comfort of beer,
in it i wished to drown my dear.
Yet it did not succeed my sorrow to take.
No, now more alive she haunts my wake.
The dark streets wake fear in my heart,
and i feel that run i must start.
A dark shadow of raven the moon does hide.
In fear i lean to a wall at my side.
The beer no longer i feel,
my guts become colder than steel.
As i run, i hear the laughter of Hell,
so terrible that in surprise i fell.
In the Darkness I see fiery eyes of devils,
waiting that someone their cups with blood fills.
And that someone came out of the dark,
and in horror, like a dog i bark.
From the Darkness comes Death herself,
to put another head on her shelf.
She holds her scythe in her hand,
and, seeing that i cannot fend,
she speaks: "I have come for thee,"
And raises her head, so her face i see.
A skull is her face of fright
and in her eyes is naught but night.
The laughter of Hell rests in my ears,
and in my eyes brings bitter tears.
That seeing, Death does almost smile,
and her face seems more vile.
And, as the laughter does sing,
She comes for me, Doom to bring.
She comes, in her robe of black.
She comes, she shan't turn back.
"No," I firmly now decide,
"If i die, i die with pride!"
I raise my head, as it should be bore.
Yet this raises Death all the more.
And, as the song grows loud,
my heart becomes more proud.
Death comes to me, no longer slow.
And, as my pride, so does her anger grow.
She comes to me, raising her scythe
And swings toward me with all her might.
As the flesh through flesh does reap,
"Finally," I think, "I will sleep."
And I hear the bell that tolls,
as on my eyes darkness falls.
