Beneath the tower of death

A flock of vultures gather

For the holy feast

The last vision of my life

A stormy cloud of feathers

What fire wouldn't touch

Are the remnants of my body

To vultures under a steaming sun

A funeral in perfect weather

A curried soul survive the feast

The ox has been my teacher

Moustachoid a sexual beast

The heredict friedrich nietzsche

May god leave someone else to be

The final zoroastrian