| Face of death looks you right in the eye
|
| And you can’t stand the sight of him
|
| You try not to look
|
| But you feel a cold stare
|
| And now you know why his name is Grim
|
| You turn and run as fast as you can
|
| You will be caught why put up a fight
|
| Your number is chosen it’s your turn to die
|
| Feeble pleas in the still of the night
|
| Pressure building
|
| Thoughts of killing
|
| Finding something
|
| To push you over the edge
|
| While you’re sleeping
|
| Evil creeping
|
| Now you’re weeping
|
| Head’s in a vice
|
| First you’re mad, then you’re glad
|
| Think you’re bad
|
| Because you ended a life
|
| Nervous twitching
|
| Feel an itching to pick up
|
| The sledge hammer
|
| Face of death looks you right in the eye
|
| And you can’t stand the sight of him
|
| You try not to look
|
| But you feel a cold stare
|
| And now you know why his name is Grim
|
| You turn and run as fast as you can
|
| You will be caught why put up a fight
|
| Your number is chosen it’s your turn to die
|
| Feeble pleas in the still of the night |