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Que Os Follen

de BASED

Second son inferior to the first born one,
Dead both are worthless, empty to anyone.
She takes their souls in her cold embrace,
She dances all around us, but none shall see her face.

Collecting the souls of the dead.
Laughing, she guides them to the light.
Her scythe drips blood red.

Some may call her lady death,
Others may call her the reaper,
With her you'll breathe your dying breath,
She'll forever be your keeper!
(repeat)

Stormy nights await adventurers at sea,
Those she watches over are thrown into the deep.
The sea swallows their bodies, just as she to their souls,
Sending each to their rightful place, as the vultures pick their bones.

Collecting the souls of the dead.
Laughing, she guides them to the light.
Her scythe drips blood red.

Some may call her lady death,
Others may call her the reaper,
With her you'll breathe your dying breath,
She'll forever be your keeper!
(repeat)

Slowly... you rot!
Bodies... maggots!

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