Scythe's cold edge thrust Spreading blood on their face Bells toll the coming of their final days
Reaching forward, through the dark Dead, marching forward, much colder than the cud Reaching forward, through the dark Spreading the soilbleed, no return when you're marked
You know that your time has come
You know that your time has come
Gasp despair through the mud
Reaching forward, through the dark Dead, marching forward, much colder than the cud Reaching forward, through the dark Spreading the soilbleed, no return when you're marked
You know that your time has come
You know that your time has come