while I lie fast asleep,
don’t wake me, only take me with you,
gently, soft and deep.
I carved my life in portions out
for those I held so dear,
and, giving all, I quite forgot
to live a life here.
There are many on this earth like me:
who, when they turn to go,
find none behind to call them back,
no one who cares to know.
For souls abandoned so, there’s none
to shed a single tear.
Now of all who’ll step into my life,
one only is certain, near:
and that is you, O Death, you,
my last and only guest.
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