Bring out your dead
with the appendages of coal,
a midnight shell,
for whom the bell tolls.
The streets are bleak.
The demise is contagious.
The Black Death is nigh
and nothing can save us.
The Reaper has arrived.
his scythe’s in demand,
with pestilence beside
the right of his hand.
Oct 19, 2020
Oct 19, 2020 at 5:42 PM UTC
Bring out your dead
with the appendages of coal,
a midnight shell,
for whom the bell tolls.
The streets are bleak.
The demise is contagious.
The Black Death is nigh
and nothing can save us.
The Reaper has arrived.
his scythe’s in demand,
with pestilence beside
the right of his hand.
"Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain" - Blue Oyster Cult
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