The darkness at the end of the tunnel
Waiting for us all
To cross over to the other side
When we lay down for the last time
The winged, skeletal figure
Holding a black scythe
Picks up the innocent
When they enter their permanent rest
The darkness at the end of the tunnel
Waiting for us all
To cross over to the other side
When we lay down for the last time
The winged, skeletal figure
Holding a black scythe
Picks up the innocent
When they enter their permanent rest