Things are turning for the worst Death is what killed our unborn child We dont chose or day of birth, neither choose our way of dying Escaping from reality to fade in to oblivion Things are turning for the worst Worse than casket needs a corpse Disillusions automatic, massive graves grow systematic Fighting against nature not to be another helpless outcast Death, death will be what kills us Death, death will be what kills us Death, death will be what kills us Death, death will be what kills us Things are turning to an end Delivering a good looking corpse Accepting finalization, taking it as compensation We were dead since our very embryonic transformation!
death, kill, turning, finalization, worst