The driving
Oh, the driving
Of the icy spear of fright
Driven deep within the soul
Of each mortal near in sight

And the Reaper
As he reaps
Glides slowly 'cross the plain
Whereas once for you
'Twas hills
Now he flattens and he tames

And his scythe
Swishing
Slicing
Biting deep into the skin
Into the flesh
Leaving scars
That will never fade away

You can run,
You can try
But the scythe is long and fluent
And the reaper glides with grace
Across the valley of your life

Ever closer
Ever closer
Does this creature nearer draw
As you run
As you run
You may find refuge for a time
But you'll find
No one can
Escape the vapid blade that is the death
And it will
Embrace the flesh
And now finally hit its mark
And the soul
Will forever drift
Down into the dark