A thousand candles burning, far as the eye can see A hundred figures stooped to light them endlessly The wind like the Grim-reaper, blows the flames away Just like our lives are blown out every moment Dead souls day
The old lady, in plot 43 The pimps and politicians all drowned now in death sea And the mourners come with their memories And candles in their pockets to be blown out endlessly Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day
Well, the organ grinds and grinds He grinds away, and we are his monkeys His monkeys as he plays He grinds and grinds and grinds away Till our own Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day Dead Souls Day