Dressed to walk the path of wrath Soulless wandering onwards His life has long since left Dragging chains meant to lock him in No walls can keep him out No gates can stand his might A fist to grasp the cross And thrust it down by force Flames are rising from the corpse Scorching heat to boil the blood His soul is cold and vast like space His gaze as sharp as his scythe The black cloth of eternity Covers his lifeless bones Fear has come to bring you down Death has come to let you in
cloth, onwards, scorching, scythe, thrust