Earth falling towards the sky,
Another final, frantic cry.
Turning and twisting inside and out.
The clocks are ticking, there is no way out.
A death of a man, than a woman and child.
Bodies everywhere falling into the aisle.
Hoping and praying that you are skipped.
Off goes the clock still, tick, tick, tick.
The moon turns red and the sky goes dark.
Up from the dead bodies rise their beating hearts.
Tables fly against broken walls,
Than you hear it, no one can resist the call.
Begging, lies, heartache, help.
And softly it is closed, the door to hell.
The fire now burns the bodies of those who are dead.
The clock is still ticking, you are next.