He's gone, he is dead His remains upon the hearse ahead As silently we wander though mist He's free
This is the end Your over, night descends Below... Into the abyss Farewell, my friend, you will be missed
Lower the A good man has passed He has reached the last of frontiers Lower the Down to half-mast For again the world has taken a turn for the
He's done, he is dead Six feet earth upon his head Now lay your wreaths Upon the one who lies beneath
you're gone In memories you shall live on Asleep... In peace now rest The weight of the is off your chest
Lower the flags A good man has passed has reached the last of frontiers Lower the flags Down to half-mast For again the world has taken a turn for the worse
That morning light I'll remember And these August nights: cold as December.