Someday I'd like to meet with death,
Chat and say hello,
Ask him where he got his job,
The places he has to go.
I'd ask him why he took her so soon,
And why I don't think it's fair,
He'd tell me he needed to show me something,
He'd take me to his lair.
And there,
On death's door,
She stands,
I miss her even more.
I'd thank him,
For the little glimpse,
The sight I'd never forget,
I haven't forgotten yet.
How will I return the favor?
I'd ask.
Why, you won't,
He'd repy.
And then, on death's door,
I would die.
