Paramaecium - They Tend To Die Lyrics
Our Lord's enemies, they found Him in GethsemaneThey took God's only Son from the olive groveAnd I decry, that which is breathing tends to dieOh my Lord, his last hours of sorrowI implore my hope for tomorrowOur Lord's enemies, they mocked Him as they bowed their kneesThey put God's only Son in a crown of thornsAnd I decry, that which is breathing tends to dieOh my Lord, I hope I can find youI deplore the way that they bind youOur Lord's enemies, they killed Him on a torture treeThey sent God's only Son to a lowly graveAnd I decry, that which is breathing tends to die