Gravediggers Shovelffice
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The lantern light swings slow
I am the one who walks within its glow
I have a worn shovel thrown over one shoulder
And the air where I work is always colder
These gravestones hold names that I have read
And even some that I have said
Sometimes I’ll hear a whisper of goodbye
And oftentimes the sky begins to cry
This cemetery stretches as far as I can see
Dotted and marred by an occasional rotting tree
I lost sight of the entry gate long ago
I have created each and every one of these graves nice and slow
And when I go to receive a soul
It is I who delivers the finale blow
It is then that my shovel appears as a flashing Scythe
Or sometimes even a fresh, clean, double edged knife
I have been called many things over time
But death is the same, and always the finale line
I’m often depicted as a hooded figure
And sometimes in houses I am said to linger
I have a plan for everyone born
To life I am its only eternal thorn
So watch out, I just might come for you
I am the Grim Reaper through and through.
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