They ask me what grey thought has just clouded my eye
I told them that Azrael looked down on their decline
What grey thought, if any, crossed the landscape of your mind
I told them that Azrael looks down on you from behind
I told them what they asked, why I hold my breath
If Azrael on wings of death collects his pound of flesh
I told them what they asked, why I hold my breath
Azrael the angel brings only death
Writer(s): Jackson, Emerson
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