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Mournful Congregation
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A Slow March To The Burial
Black painted hearse idles slowly, Procession follows at a morbid pace, The pallbearers steady in their march, Befitting this most sacred ceremony
Ornate brass handles clasped By solemn faced black clad men Shining black casket lid Inlaid in crimson silk
In there lies your father, son.... Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
A father to a son and a son to a father Now claimed by the coldest hand of death
Faintest scent of fresh cut white rose petal Choked by the musty scent of fresh turned earth
Funereal they march....... Funereal they march....... Funereal they march....... Funereal they march
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