---

Remains scattered throughout

Holding onto a stench of death

Pieces of bones are left behind

Only to later turn to ashes

I sit up alone in my castle tower

Watching them die one by one

From their own self-inflicted error

Why must I wield the scythe?

I cannot control these miscreants

Nor their putrid acts of selfishness

One day they must realize

That all life is not about their Christ

Those disciples kill more than they love

They slaughter more than they feed

As time goes on

I become numb and heartless

To the plagues of mankind

No entertainment is left

Satan rolling his red eyes

Picks the humans up like objects

Life is a never-ending chore

In my kingdom of bones

As time goes on

I become numb and heartless

To the plagues of mankind

No entertainment is left

Satan rolling his red eyes

Picks the humans up like objects

Life is a never-ending chore

In my kingdom of bones