Perfector - My Epic

I’m still a young man

So I think very little of death

Who really does, 'til it’s coming for them?

And I know with each breath I come one closer

But death is just a hook behind the door

Where I’ll leave my dirty clothes

They may dump my body in the sea

Spread my ashes miles wide,

It won’t matter,

All my parts will realign.

They rush to find each other

When they hear their Lover’s cry,

And death will be abandoned

When He comes back for His bride

Saints are never buried,

They are seeds planted

Who bring about a greater harvest when

They burst forth from

The earth that needed their fruits,

But it could never hope to make

Enough room for their roots.

(Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)

Death is swallowed up,

(Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)

It owns nothing in me,

(Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)

Oh, death is swallowed up,

(Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)

It owns nothing in me,

Oh, precious in the sight of the Lord

Is the death of His faithful ones.

Precious in the sight of the Lord

Is the death of His faithful ones,

Oh, death is swallowed up.

Oh, it was always you, it was always you.

Oh, it was always you, it was always you.

Oh, it was always you, it was always you.

Oh, it was always you, it was always you.

Oh, it was always you, it was always you.