Dying poet

1.
it struck twelve in the night
when the grave servant wakes up
bald and pale
the eyes cold as ice!
He got out of his tomb
To overcome every gap
To find him
To torment him
To lead to his execution!

Refrain:
He was a poet
And a thinker
But now led to the butcher!
Burning his works
He hanging in the fire
He's a dying poet!

2.
every power, every blessing
setting in the dark
People rigid with fear
You already know
He will die there
All people have to go!
Otherwise he will find
To torment
Lead them to their execution!

No angels will sing
No more bell will ring
The city grew quiet
Cleared of hatred
No place for love
Death's greatest treasure
To find innocent people
To torment her, to steal her!

Refrain:
He was a poet
And a thinker
But now led to the butcher!
Burning his works
He hanging in the fire
He's a dying poet!

3.
It struck twelve that night
Then the grave servant descended
Murdered and slaughtered
Dismembered and ostracized
He returns to his crypt
Has overcome every gap
Found the poet
Battered the body
Led to his execution!

Refrain:
He was a poet
And a thinker
But now led to the butcher!
Burning his works
He hanging in the fire
He's a dying poet!