Kunsten at dø (Original English version)

The art of Dying:

Lyrics: Atkin

So now we have come to end of your days
Time to learn what this manuscript’s says
As you slip from our world and your family’s gaze
It’s time to reflect on your questionable ways!

Did you drink? Did you dance? Did you chase the fine girls?
Did you laugh? Did you sing? Did you light up the world?
Did you hate? Did you kill? Did you bend to your greed?
Now is the time to reflect on your deeds!

There’s an art to this dying, for dying you are.
And your trip to the afterlife’s not very far
Die with composure, and die with grace
You’re soul won’t be spared till your sins are erased

Do not be afraid, though your life’s at an end
Think of all that have met death before
Angels shall guide you to heaven my friend
And there shall you meet with our lord

Though your body is broken, and soon shall be dust
Your spirit shall ever live on
Forgiven your greed and your wonting and lust
Which your soul will be lifted beyond

Five temptations beset you, the shivering damned
But now’s not the time to give in
Lack of faith may beset you, withering man
When you think of your ungodly sins

After faith becomes questioned, then comes despair
What if you’re destined for hell?
What if you’re led down the dark winding stair
To the sound of a demons bell?

Ars, Ars, Moriandi
All men are destined to die!

Ars, Ars, Moriandi
Cursed by your spiritual pride!

Ars, Ars, Moriandi
Where this life and the next shall collide!

Ars, Ars, Moriandi
The reaper shall not be denied!

Avarice, my friend, you were my undoing
Life’s ungodly pleasures were ever so fine
The wine and the ale, the maids and their wooing
No wonder I sickened before my time

Avarice, how could I ever refuse you
How could I turn such wonders away
Because it’s written right there in the bible
Doesn’t a man have his right to a say?

Demons, set their gold crowns there upon me
Demons they brought me treasures divine
Demons they whispered their lies all about me
Demons they took me, some would opine

Is there one moment more left for redemption
My time is too short, is there nought I can do?
Death comes to all, and I am no exception
Death is an art, say I, this much is true