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At night the hooded figure rides on wheels
of blackened steel and bone.
His motorcycle crushing skulls beneath its tires,
leaving a trail of hellfire.
The hooded figure rides...
At night the hooded figure rides his motorcycle,
a demonic vessel spreading fear and loathing to all
who witness it.
The darkest vehicle one could ever wish to find.
At night the hooded figure rides,
his task to reap those whose time has finally come.
The glinting scythe he holds serves its purpose well,
rending souls from their bodies,
casting them into hell.
Squeal of tires, roar of engine, blood curdles.
