I can’t take it anymore
The fingers – so close to my face
Reeking stench of charred-black bones
The reaper is coming for me

Burning fires without end
All brought on by the touch of the finger
That clawed index – yellow and black
The touch of reaper will take me back to Hell

Don’t you fear the bloody scythe
Don’t you fear those piercing eyes
Doesn’t matter what’s behind you
Just fear the poisoned hand of death

It's the last thing that you'll ever see