Silent acres of faces unknown
No reason is given for secrets and bones
The price of admission to this resting place
Is the last expression of fate on your face
I'm the reaper of souls left boxed for me
a dirt nap is taken by all including you and me
Come to my oak Savannah and pick out your final destiny
Not to be taken lightly or to be viewed un slightly
A late lazy Walk with the full moon
your decision can be made in a night
where you'll dig your hole and lie your head soon
Silent acres of oaks
No comments:
Post a Comment