whisper in my ear, my sweet, the time to die is here let us clasp our fingers, tight, and look at ourselves in each other's eyes may the fire run over us like a cloud, (hair singeing, flesh charring) a sweet taste on the tip of our tongues as the smoke fills our lungs till there's no air to breathe, and all our words are choked by destiny i'll whisper then, in your ear my sweet, the time to die is here.