The Reaper is hot on your tail, What have you done? You’ve made it onto her list, Who did you hurt? The hunt is just the beginning, How far can you run? Your soul is hers to reap, Where can you hide? Watch out for her scythe, Why do you cry? The life of a vigilante is meant to be a lonely one, Roaming darkened streets and collecting secrets. Until the four of them forced their way into mine, Stirring up feelings I didn’t know I had. But if they try to fuck with my plans, My pretty knife will be through their throats and my bloody scythe on their foreheads.