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Description
In the land of the dead, where the skies are so gray
The air is so cold and the wind blows away

The dead march on, with their faces so grim
Their eyes dark and hollow, with nary a whim

The trees are all dead, and the ground is all bare
The grass is all withered, and the flowers are nowhere

But even in death, there is still some hope
For the dead can still dream, and they can still cope

For in their dreams, they can see the light
And they can feel the warmth, and they can take flight

They can dance and they can sing, and they can play
They can laugh and they can love, and they can sway

So even in death, there is still life to be found
In the land of the dead, where the dead are all around.

Description
In the land of the dead, where the skies are so gray
The air is so cold and the wind blows away

The dead march on, with their faces so grim
Their eyes dark and hollow, with nary a whim

The trees are all dead, and the ground is all bare
The grass is all withered, and the flowers are nowhere

But even in death, there is still some hope
For the dead can still dream, and they can still cope

For in their dreams, they can see the light
And they can feel the warmth, and they can take flight

They can dance and they can sing, and they can play
They can laugh and they can love, and they can sway

So even in death, there is still life to be found
In the land of the dead, where the dead are all around.