Comfort Lyrics

wait your turn to become nothing
hand in hand
the pope
the emperor
the king
the laborer
the mother
the child
tread together to the grave
wait your turn to become nothing
the three cadavers said to the living
"what we were, you are, what we are, you will be"
a grim sarabande of skeletons
they're coming to take you away
remember.
that you.
must die.
remember.
remember.
remember.