The shadows are where he may larch
News is he's as old as time
You maybe next in line for his blade
Death is all he knows
By the slash of his blade
Blood will splatter and stain
Walls dripping red
Floors wet with blood
A shadow in the night
A thief of life to paint it red
Grief is in his wake
Misery is what he feels
Never to know love
Death is he the Grim Reaper
Never to live like us
Sad be he to bear the curse
To kill all life he touches
Death in robes of black
