[00:00.00] A SLOW MARCH TO THE BURIAL[00:15.53] Black painted hearse idles slowly,[00:27.46] Procession follows at a morbid pace,[00:39.11] The pallbearers steady in their march,[00:51.35] Befitting this most sacred ceremony[01:03.24] Ornate brass handles clasped[01:14.93] By solemn faced black clad men[01:26.79] Shining black casket lid[01:38.83] Inlaid in crimson silk[01:50.06] In there lies your father, son....[02:02.04] A father to a son and a son to a father[02:16.89] Now claimed by the coldest hand of death[02:29.83] Faintest scent of fresh cut white rose petal[02:44.20] Choked by the musty scent of fresh turned earth[02:59.73] Funereal they march....... Funereal they march.......[03:14.94] Funereal they march....... Funereal they march ........!!!!!!!!!!!!