| Tenement buildings, decay is in the air
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| A tangible aura of fear. |
| boarded windows, rats in the walls
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| Soon all will be cleared. |
| an old lady waits
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| Among darkened walls, scared of the things that in the shadows crawl
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| She knows he’s come, so many times before
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| But she won’t answer when he knocks at her door
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| Mr. Death — no more pain
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| Mr. Death — no more blame
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| Mr. Death — no more shame, just reach out and take his hand
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| Mr. Death — do not run
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| Mr. Death — it is done
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| Mr. Death — he’s the one who’ll take you to your promised land
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| Sounds of a scuffle, shots ring the air, a body falls to the ground
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| Blood flows freely as he cries in the night, for help that will never be found
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| All confused, why is he here, the pain it grows and so does his fear
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| Tired of the fight but he can’t let it go
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| He still resists when death lands the final blow
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| What is it about me that makes men fear?
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| Why do they tremble whenever I draw near?
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| Is it the final kiss they know that I must bring or is it the way men die
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| The pain and the suffering — but you have brought it on yourselves! |
| -
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| Why do you run when it’s your turn to go, it should be easy for you
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| All those people you laid in their graves, you know just what to do
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| Mourn their loss, dry their tears, pillar of strength, allaying their fears
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| Now it’s time, take his hand, don’t be scared, it’s part of the masters plan |