I feel like I'm standing on deaths door
And His icy hands are griping
Me around my ribs I can't breathe
I'm waiting for Him to claim me
Or anyone here we're all subject to His will

Death is finicky
He claims randomly
And I'm in His terrain
A place where He claims
And counts the newborns
His eventual victims

He is here I can feel Him
As my knees go weak
And my vision fades
I grit my teeth
and try to stay in the game
Because I'm not His, not today.