Figures loom and somber tones sound
Played by undertakers' clarinets
And weepers faint, by manners bound
Our revered mayor passed away
Fat lecher and thief in the right place
The man of his time; never speak ill of the dead
So Christ, show him your grace
Everything can go to hell
New moon is in the sky and the whole town weeps
The carpenter doesn't care, another tree fell
In the night´s shadow, the gravedigger digs deep
Over the hole in the ground called the grave
Two figures loom and rain knocks on the lid
Of a crude casket
In which the old man's body is hid
Ghastly alders, young birches
And sturdy lindens, rustling leaves
In their shadows sleeps forever
The one who should, but won't cause any grief
A newly occured vacancy for a job
What will change with gravedigger's demise?
Only his worn out mate knows and sobs
In the shadow of the night with teary eyes