The grim reaper finds his victim,
There will be no time for fixing.
After death, after life,
Mr grim needs no knife.

His bony finger,
Is what makes him the reaper.
You’re on his list,
Once you slit that wrist.

No need for the kiss of life
Once he’s done you’ll only know strife.
To hell you go,
Death is the only pleasure you will know.

You’re a job for the grim reaper,
Your only hope is you’ll be a sleeper.
Don’t be awake when he finds you,
This a man you won’t be able to sue.

You are done for,
As soon and his bony hand touches your door.
He ticks you off his list,
Then disappears into the mist.
He knows tomorrow is a new day,
A new day with new people to slay.


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