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A thousand candles burning,
far as the eye can see
A hundred figures stooped
to light them endlessly
The wind like the Grim-reaper,
blows the flames away
Just like our lives are blown
out every moment
Dead souls day
The old lady, in plot 43
The pimps and politicians
all drowned now in death sea
And the mourners come
with their memories
And candles in their pockets
to be blown out endlessly
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day
Well, the organ grinds and grinds
He grinds away, and we are his monkeys
His monkeys as he plays
He grinds and grinds and grinds away
Till our own
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day
Dead Souls Day

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