His clothes are ready
His clothes are here
He is so steady
He's so sincere
He is so fine
With his black suit
He's so divine
Like a fresh fruit
There is a party
It's on the way
One day we all
Do go away
There is a party
It is so big
Trumpets are playing
For the next gig
All there are waiting
They are so sure
That death my friend
It is your cure
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem