Nowhere left to run

There's nowhere left to hide

Bow before your end

Kneel down and die

The Reaper's touch

Calculated

Always hunting

Never failing

Life's race is run

Your time is done

Welcome the Abyss

Of impending doom

The Reaper's touch

Calculated

Always hunting

Never failing

The Reaper's cold dead grasping hand

Reaches forth to harvest the damned

When you feel that morbid chill, you cannot fight

This end is real

The Reaper's touch

Calculated

Always hunting

Never failing