As if all that tears we shed,could raise the dead. Those that died for a cause,
the ones that died in their course.
Those that were prepared,
the ones with life,were too dispaired.
Those that never had the chance to say their goodbyes,though death will kill us all as time goes by.
We all wail;cry me a river I ‘ill cry you a sea.
Fate has taken them away,from the land they ones tread.
Beneath these earth we will all end.
Where we lay with foes and friend.
Rich or poor, all men alike.
Every aged and every tike.