The ruthless time devours life,
It brings the calmness to this world.
No matter how we all shall die,
We'll meet the Reaper at the door...

So heartless but fair, He reaps with his scythe 
All those who have finished their last flight.
He comes in the morning, He comes at night,
He's dressed in His cloak, absorbing the light.

His name is unknown, His face is obscured,
His steps are so quiet, weightless and grim;
He rips out your soul, yet you still endure,
His cloak will muffle your final scream...

He follows your path wherever you go,
His touch on your skin reveals your old sins;
You plead for compassion, dying alone,
Your tongue tastes the salt of your bitter tears...

He takes your life fast, you don't cry for long,
Your lungs are collapsed, you can't take a breath;
The silence dissolves your favorite song;
You fall into darkness towards your death...

He wipes off your blood and burns up your corpse,
Then washes His cloak and sharpens His blade...
He walks through the night and knocks on the doors,
Delivering death, deciding the fates...