Has it dawned on you yet?
Have you begun to grasp
That life is not a clock
But an hourglass?
Are you prepared?
Is your rat-nest in order?
Will your mind be at ease
When the shadows grow taller?

Hopeless odds
The game is fixed
See death tear down the playground
A knife in the throat
Just to see if it fits
See life sneak out through the devil's hatch

Blazing scythe, book of lies
Scissors beats paper
Orb of flies, throne of mice
Shovel beats sceptre

Hopeless buds
The soil is sick
See reason reach for the tinderbox
A modest flame
And a bundle of sticks
All flesh is grass when the ashes call

Mouths of dirt, angel birth
Tombstone beats feather
Wall of urns, crown of worms
Shovel beats sceptre

Has it dawned on you yet?
Have you begun to grasp
That life is not a clock
But an hourglass?
Are you prepared?
Is your rat-nest in order?
Will your mind be at ease
When the shadows grow taller?

Your days are numbered
No matter what you've been told
So, stop now and consider
That you've never been this old
That you've never been this old
That you've never been this old
That you've never been this old

Pope-less odds
The throat is slit
See leafed hands raise the loving cup
A pale vowel
From the deaconess' lips
All flesh is cash when the gavel falls

Oblong box, gilded cross
Coffin beats saviour
Velvet knots, maggot pox
Shovel beats sceptre