someday when youre interested, ill tell you everything thats happened.
from abandoning you then, to abandoning you now.
the hooded wraith holding the scythe covered in the farmers blood.
the haunting of my mind and soul for time in recent memory.
you hate what i do to you, i hate what you do to me.
the equilibrium of a failing fellowship.
you hate it when i leave you, i hate it when you leave me.
this time i will hold the scythe and walk you across the deadlands.
youll walk through the tempest holding the lantern at the doorway.
my black hood will be worn, my scythe will not be clean.
its you that will pass on and never transcend into the higher form.
from angel to reaper, chorus to the devils chord.
im on your shoulder and inside your ears telling you the haunting things.
my scythe will have your blood, my rotting hand will hold your head.