Crossing the River

I'm sorry, now, for what I've done
But it's impossible to run.
I must answer the tolling bell
That summons my spirit to Hell.
Goodbye. My masters bid me come.

I'm sorry, friend, for what I've done;
Please pray for me before the sun.
Not reaching for Heaven, I fell
Into the soul I had to sell.
Goodbye. I have been bid to come.