Paroles de Mortal Souls

It's not wise tô look him in the face He knows when it's time tô start the chase Face of death stares you down There's not hope you will be found No need tô hide the reaper knows Harvester of mortal souls Black eyes and wings spread toward the sky Hand of deaths approaching don't ask why Face of death stares you down There's not hope you will be found No need tô hide the reaper knows Harvester of mortal souls His scythe is coming for your head Now you will sleep amongst the dead Turns off the lights your life is gone Everyday for him the hunt is on Black eyes and wings spread toward the sky Hand of deaths approaching don't ask why Face of death stares you down There's not hope you will be found No need tô hide the reaper knows Harvester of mortal souls