[Spoken]
God of the evening
God of the night
Show thyself to me
Bless this unholy rite

A child of thine own nature
Impurely born
That thy hath forsaken
Unrightfully scorned

O father, o father
What have I done wrong
That you would forsake me
That I wouldn’t belong
Please give me an answer
Please give me a sign
For if I am imperfect
Thus is your design

[Outro]
The funeral pyre
Has been ashes for days
The groom and his dead wife
Are set in their ways
My body is aching
But still we push on
Because if we stop here
We’ll be dead by the dawn