My death is like a swinging door, a patient girl who knows the score   Oh, whistle for her and the passing time   My death is like a [incomprehensible] truth at the funeral of my youth   Let's laugh at that and the passing time      My death is like a witch at night, as surely as all love is blind   Let's not talk about   But whatever is behind the door and there's nothing left to do   An angel or devil, I don't care for in front of that door, there is -you      My death is like a beggar blind, I'll see the world with an unlit mind   Throw me a dime for the passing time   My death comes to allow my friends a few good times, before it ends   Let's drink to that and the passing time      My death is in your arms, your thighs   Your cold fingers will close my eyes, let's not talk about   But whatever is behind the door and there's nothing left to do   Whether angel or devil, I don't care, for in front of that door, there is you      My death is all among the fallen leaves   And magician's mysterious leaves, rabbits and dogs   When the passing time      My death hides all among the flowers   Where the darkest shadow cowers   Let's pick lilacs for the passing time      My death is in a double bed   Shades of oblivion run through my head, pull up the sheets   But whatever is behind the door and there's nothing left to do   An angel or devil, I don't care for in front of that door, there is you