Everything in the daylight is fine, no worries, just frolicking.
But once the sun sets and darkness settles in, it's completely different,
Because the darkness brings many instruments of death,
Instruments of death that bring tremors up my spine.
The silence is unbearable, any moment there could be a crack,
And some paranormal identity appears, and you're staring into the face of death.
Or maybe it's not paranormal, or supernatural; maybe it's human.
A human holding a gleaming knife in their hand, blood already dripping from the sides,
Heading straight for your heart, and your head, and your neck.
Again, maybe it's not human.
Maybe it really is supernatural, for playing Bloody Mary in the bathroom…
Suddenly, whispers are apparent in your ears, a chill circles the room, something's watching you from behind,
It's death, isn't it? It has to be. Death is always surrounding us, grabbing it inside its clutches.
In a moment, you'll take your last breath on this world, and what will you have done?
Besides having friends, family, and maybe a job, you've lived a worthless life.
It doesn't matter if you have kids; they're not going to mourn you forever,
They won't continue your legacy because there is no legacy.
You're nothing, just a fickle human placed on this Earth without a reason.
Is this the same for everyone…?
It may be, but I have just a hunch that it's me. That I deserve to die a painful death, for all of the sins I have committed,
For all the lies I've told, all the wrong I've done…
But to those who killed me, I'm clapping and giving you a bravo.
Because I'm glad that someone finally killed me, instead of the opposite…
Serial killers aren't a very good thing to have on Earth.
But, just like the strong hand of Death, they will always be there,