The Reaper's Touch

Nowhere left to run
There’s nowhere left to hide
Bow before your end
Kneel down and die
The Reaper’s touch
Calculated
Always hunting
Never failing
Life’s race is run
Your time is done
Welcome the Abyss
Of impending doom
The Reaper’s touch
Calculated
Always hunting
Never failing
The Reaper’s cold dead grasping hand
Reaches forth to harvest the damned
When you feel that morbid chill, you cannot fight
This end is real
The Reaper’s touch
Calculated
Always hunting
Never failing