The man waits by the window day after day,
Death creeps closer and closer to get his way.
So his family and lovers get down on their knees and pray,
For a little cure or hope to dilute their dismay.

Tears stream down their mournful faces;
Reflecting on the joyous times, people and places,
In an effort to untie life’s tangled laces;
Striving for a miracle to lengthen all unfinished cases

But all is just a distraction from feeling so blue;
A cold shoulder on death and his music’s fickle tune,
But even the man by the window knows he will arrive soon,
As his bony feet crunch over children’s skulls never to be born anew

The façade will only last until its time goes by,
And then they will realize it for what it was; a tragic lie.
They must learn to accept lugubrious fate and not cry,
Because in the end, the man by the window will always die