When we die, when we die



Will our bones be left in strange lands

And our grave be dug by cold hands



When we die, when we die

When we die, when we die



Will their tears wash the church away

And their cries smash the stain glass panes



When we die, when we die



Or will it be another lonely morning for the preist

No dearly beloved gathered for the deceased



When we die, when we die

Will you cry, will you cry



Will you tie ribbons round blue flowers

Then you place them to be devoured



By the sky, when we die

When I die, when I die



Or will it be another lonely morning for the preist

No dearly beloved gathered for the deceased 



When we die, when we die

When I die, when I die 

When I die, when I die 

When I die, when I die