When Winds Howl the Song of Death

Blessed are the sick and blessed are the ugly
As they know their place and strive for nothing
In the world ruled by prejudice the right of life was abolished
Throats of those who spoke their mind are slit
Carry the torch through the darkest cave, in the land of doom, where evil breeds
In the darkness of coffin rests a body so cold
Who was the lord of his spirit can rule it no more
Mournful dirge spreads bitterness and modest tars
Winds howl the song of death
Gracefully a facless digger of graves turns over the last spade of soil and
blows out a dying flame of life
Deadly stench chokes the living ones