Austin and Elliott: Listening Library
O Death
(Austin and Elliott, from 13 Songs Plus)
Chris Elliott
O Death, O Death
Cold, cold hands picking through the burning sand.
I am Death and I excel
At my chosen trade.
Thank you one and all
For digging your own graves.
O Death, O Death
Cold, cold hands picking through the burning sand.
You save all your money
Just to give to me,
Making me my weapons,
One more baby on your knee.
O Death, O Death
Cold, cold hands picking through the burning sand.
I used to labor hard
Seeking souls to trap
Now the fires burn,
Bodies fall in my lap.
O Death, O Death
Cold, cold hands picking through the burning sand.
Snow-white morning doves
Gather 'round like children.
You take the olive branch, say, "thank you,"
And you kill them.
I understand you're wise
Only fools can dream.
I hope you're never fools enough
To live in harmony.
O Death, O Death
Cold, cold hands picking through the burning sand.