| Strike my name from the book of life
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| Inscribed forever in the book of death
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| Destroyer, life-taker, the end and the omega
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| Death walks behind you, waiting to find you to dismember…
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| The bloody work of death is not too great a task
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| All this and more, I now hold in my grasp
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| Like the fear that holds you fast, like the last breath you cannot gasp
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| Your end comes slashing down, your death revealed at last…
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| Ends such as yours are the trade that I ply
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| Stricken by death as your life flashes by
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| From an autopsy, to a cemetery, then to the grave, your final destiny
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| Carnage and sin are my blood, kith and kin, and to your end, they will be…
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| As all begins, so all must end, now your end I shall begin
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| From dust to dust, return again, life ends in sin
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| The circle turns back on itself, life ends in death and pain and hell
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| And dead men have no tales to tell, nor souls to sell…
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| Death walks at my right hand, and there’s a knife-blade in my left
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| Turning living into dying, soon to be friends and mourners crying
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| Dispossessing the flesh, leaving death
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| But no clues for the finding…
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| The bloody work of death is not too great a task
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| All this and more, I now hold in my grasp
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| Like the fear that holds you fast, like the last breath you cannot gasp
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| Your end comes slashing down, your death revealed at last… |