Old man death, you stand before my door
and I have no food to offer, no children to give,
no goat to bleed, no tears to weep.
Old man death, you stand before my door
and bid me enter you in, but I am weak
and cannot fight for the time you take.
All my days I spent bent on knee, pulling hair, scratching skin.
Oh Old Man Death! Go next door and let me be.
You have taken all I have,
see my hearth it is dead, see my dusty bed.
All I have is this broken heart to hold up to thee.
Old Man Death why take this too from me?
:: TANYA MEESON :: 