Danse Macabre

A single thought feeds whatever’s left of my life:
Death — the final equalizer
All our souls stand before the same trial
Yes, you will die
You too will die
Your ploys have now reached demise
A vacant life before your eyes
Now who’s the master and who is the slave
Dance with me on your own grave
Skeleton ball proves the mightiest will fall
Along with all the lowlifes
For mortality is written in our blood
You too will die
Yes, you will die
Thrived on the innocent cries
Pleas for grace met with despise
Emperor, peasant, a beggar, a child
Now in death stirred bones are piled
Dance of death
Macabre collects your head
Yes, you will die
We will live on through our deeds
You’re massacred by your own creed
There are no idols, no martyrs, no gods
Victims of eternal fraud
Dance of death
Macabre collects your head
Macabre collects your head