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Blind as a bat, ye be, for society has made thee
Expect you, hoods, not hats, and a Scythe with which to Reap thee
I am simple, riding the wind at your back, waiting for the moment, when you are most content
Your hate rides on my shoulder, your love trampled underfoot, after this I'll take thee, and put thee in a rut
This chain around my neck, a burden from the Gods, was sent to save all mankind from its greed for eternal life
This chain holds many lives, many thousands of generations, soon it will burst, till the Gods, another craft
After this I reap thee, so soon again you'll live
For soon, very soon, your death will be your doom!