Rest your eyes little one,
Rest while you can.
Make merry, encounter bliss.
Live your own life, my love.
These weary eyes have seen more than they recollect.
Reds, blues, greens,
Moons, stars, stripes,
Men, boys and marines.
They all have passed.
All but me,
Come for me, O Reaper...
Take my soul, for it no longer belongs to me.
The night is still dark,
Won’t be long before the day is too.
Take me before that sight comes,
My crumbling eyes can no longer handle the truth.
Don’t be afraid, my love... never fumble.
Scythe in hand the Reaper comes for me.
I must go now...
But hark well when the clouds rumble.
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