'My name is Death, the gardener Death,

who sows the seeds of sleep in pain-filled wrinkles.

My name is Death, the gardener Death,

who weeds out withered plants, those careworn creatures.

My name is Death, the gardener Death,

who reaps the ripened corn of suffering from your meadows.

I'm He that frees you from disease. I'm not disease.

I'm He that brings relief from pain. I'm not the pain you feel.

...I am the greatest freedom you know.

I am your final lullaby.

Hushed, calm and still is my humble home.

Come rest in peace.'

​

DEATH'S ARIA