Woorden: As Cities Burn. Wake Dead Man, Wake.

Let the dead bury their own dead

Will you still love me in famine?
As when love began at the harvest
Or would you gain the whole world

Son, I love you at your darkest

But what good is the whole world
When I promise no tomorrow?
I only promise your tomorrows
Will never take you past my palm

Love, what is love without trust?
At my word would you bring your Isaac

Son, I loved you at your darkest