He is dead, he is gone. Tonight the king of kings, the ruler of rulers, the tyrant of tyrants is dead. Oh how the slaves weep with joy! Oh how the children dance in the streets, and the birds sing, and the women cry out to the heavens with thanks! Not a soul weeps of sorrow, and the sweet taste of triumph lingers in the air. Voices sing out the most beautiful chant. "He is dead, he is dead, he is dead,"
· Sat Jun 11, 2011 @ 12:24am · 0 Comments