|The Midnight Hour, the darkest hour
That human grief may know,
Sends forth its hurried summons-
Asks me to come - I go!
I know not when the bell may toll,
I know not where the blow may fall,
I only know that I must go
In answer to the call.
Perhaps a friend - perhaps unknown-
'Tis fate that turns the wheel -
The tangled skein of human life
Winds slowly on the reel.
And I? - I'm the undertaker,
"Cold-blooded", you'll hear them say.
"Trained to the shock and chill of death.
With a heart that's cold and grey."