Call from the Grim Reaper.

Tick Tick Tock,
Melody of the clock,
You're gruesome death awaits,
Proceed into Hell's Gates.

Let's wrestle in the sheets,
I stab your guts; you bleed,
Pulling you in closer,
Whilst you scream onto Jehovah.

Or take a walk in the park,
We can walk aside the lake,
Then I push you and hold down your head,
Drown you to death you'll suffer revenge.

Underwater you can't see?
Oh no, you can't breathe?
Splashing and waving
Then you accept fate,
Surrender your soul,
There's no escape.

Light and darkness,
White doves and black crows,
A storm of mighty sorrow,
Shall engulf you tomorrow.