bold now, the chariot's arriving   and i am twelve closer to dying   sickening that i could've been counting men   and it still would've made sense      hold now, the pitchfork is arriving   my conciense is so close to diving   i hope you will go right   i don't want to have to die tonight      breathe deep and hope for more than silence   too cold, but i'm too weak to try this   ask me, only to make me sad   to do what i already have      never ask me to lie with you while you die.   never ask me to lie with you while you die.   never ask me, i have so many times.   i have so many times.