They say death comes like a thief in the night. Nobody realizes it's there until first light. They walk into the room to see their whole worlds gone. Never getting to say sorry for doing wrong. Maybe they should've been there more. Now they'll never get the chance to make it up to em.
They say death comes like a thief in the night. Where is he? He's on the next victims doorstep. He's just waiting for them to get ready for sleep so he can take the first step. He creeps up the stairs and around the corner. He won't even give his victim the chance to adore her. As his victim climbs into bed, he'll take the reapers scythe and swing it over his head. The next morning she wakes to see her love is gone, and she wonders why she could've done to prevent things from going so wrong. She could've stopped the drugs, the alcohol. She could've been less tough on him all along. Now she blames herself, wishing she was dead. Now death knows whose life he's taking next.
They say death comes like a thief in the night, where is he? What does he do? There's those people who welcome death into their lives. People hurt them, never really knowing that they want to die. My best friend told me, crying late one night, they didn't want to live with the weight on their shoulders. He told me to tell their mother and their father that he loved them. I tried to stop him, but there was nothing I could do. He shut off his phone and left late that night to complete his do's. He walked over to the county high water bridge and climbed to the edge. One tear rolled down his face, then he took his step off the ledge. I never had the chance to say goodbye. And now on that day every year I cry. I can't imagine how his parents feel, his father sitting there over dosing pills. Everybody wonders if there's something they could've done. But they always wonder long after the chance is gone.
They say death is like a thief in the night. Where is he? What does he do? I'll wrap my arms around his neck. Just to let him know, he can take me next.
