| You’re not restrained, but still they cut
|
| And once you’re drained, you’re out of luck.
|
| You’ve got something they need.
|
| Put to the test, arms by your side
|
| Unlock the chest and open wide
|
| Hungry minds want to feed
|
| You wanna live after you die?
|
| The bones you give will never lie,
|
| Hanging out on your own.
|
| There ain’t no eyes, in the front of your head,
|
| A body that dies but isn’t dead.
|
| Live forever by the tome.
|
| There’s something round the corner,
|
| It scratches at your door.
|
| Loss impossible to comprehend
|
| Yet impossible to ignore.
|
| So don’t cower in the corner,
|
| Try not to fall from grace,
|
| ‘Cause when it knocks once, twice, thrice at your door
|
| Stand tall meet your fate face to face.
|
| You rot and fester, eyes awake
|
| A grinning jester will give not take.
|
| They host a hearty feast.
|
| Clipboard in hand, pen full of ink
|
| You lie, they stand, on the brink
|
| And checkbox the deceased. |