Place Of The Dead

I now enter the place of the dead
In the prime of my life
Never again will I see the Lord God
I will be robbed of my normal years

Never again will I see my friends
While in the land of the living
My life is blown away
With those who live in this world

It has been cut short
Like a shepherd's tent in a storm
A weaver cuts cloth from a loom
My life is over

I was torn apart from the Lions
While I waited at night
I moaned like a dove
And chattered like a swallow on a crane

I am in trouble
I am tired of looking to heaven for help

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1. Place Of The Dead

I now enter the place of the Dead

In the prime of my life

Never again will I see the Lord God

I will be robbed of my normal years

Never again will I see my friends

While in the land of the living

My life is blown away

With those who live in this world

It has been cut short

Like a shepherd's tent in a storm

A weaver cuts cloth from a loom

My life is over

I was torn apart from the lions

While I waited all night

I moaned like a dove

And chattered like a swallow on a crane

I am in trouble

I am tired of looking to heaven for help.

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