Beautiful evening turns to night.
Clouds they gather to the darkening sky.
Storm is rising, but still it's calm.
As I've been writing this requiem.

I - am powerless, wallow in this feeling;
I - am breathless, hear the sound of mourning;

Distant church bells begin to toll.
I rise listen, feel it in my soul.
I'm getting weaker, but I need to write.
I stare these woods, this one last time.

I - am powerless, wallow in this feeling;
I - am breathless, hear the sound of mourning;

I grow weaker by the hour, I cannot sleep.
My heart's heavy for departure. In this final moment;
I feel growing weakness, cannot breath.
My heart's last heavy beating. As I write this requiem.

I kneel down and lower my head.
Silent chanting fills the air.
It's time to begin the funeral.
From this edge I bid the last farewell.

I - am powerless, wallow in this feeling;
I - am breathless, hear the sound of mourning;

I grow weaker by the hour, I cannot sleep.
My heart's heavy for departure. In this final moment;
I feel growing weakness, cannot breath.
My heart's last heavy beating. As I write this requiem.


Lyrics submitted by Skoobasteve24

Art of Death Act III: The Requiem of the Funeral Eve song meanings
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