Hurlement The Harvester
At the edge of your vision
Bordering on impression
There floats a figure clad in oblivion
Ageless never to relent
Heartless, never to repent
His eyes do ever burn with cold intent
Never lost and never late
Never tired of its gait
Is the mount that bears the herald of fate
Fine and sharp as a shadow
Tempered in tears of sorrow
Is the blade that will reap never to sow
Come to me...
You will be damned, so I decree
You will be damned, time is with me
You will be damned, run not from me
You will be damned, so I decree
He's the damnedest of the ghouls
He's the Harvester of souls
He's the hand that taints and befouls
Be you king or commoner
Be you saint or sinner
Of your life drinks the Harvester
Come to me...
You will be damned, so I decree
You will be damned, time is with me
You will be damned, run not from me
You will be damned, so I decree