I'll celebrate their lives, because they can't.
I'll wake one day and pray for them.
I'll make short-lived, any wants I have for their return.
I'll light a candle for each of their lives lost.
I'll hang any man who will run at their cross.
I'll shove the Pretender in a hearth to burn.
I'll cut a cake every year upon the date of their deaths.
I'll make wishful thoughts of their lives while in my bed.
And I'll shove the Pretender in a hearth to burn.
And I'll shove the Pretender in a hearth to burn.
But here he comes, that wretched man.
I'll wake one day and pray for them.
I'll make short-lived, any wants I have for their return.
I'll light a candle for each of their lives lost.
I'll hang any man who will run at their cross.
I'll shove the Pretender in a hearth to burn.
I'll cut a cake every year upon the date of their deaths.
I'll make wishful thoughts of their lives while in my bed.
And I'll shove the Pretender in a hearth to burn.
And I'll shove the Pretender in a hearth to burn.
But here he comes, that wretched man.