Icy fingers on your skin
Shivers up and down
Cold without and cold within
Never make a sound.

Sitting in the dark and cold
Nary say a word
Waiting as the world grows old
Isn't that absurd?

Death comes knocking on the door
Won't you let him in?
Silently upon the floor
Now we can begin.

Dressed in black and dressed in white
Marriage to the grave
When our day has turned to night
Nothing can we save.

In a crowd or all alone
All must take this dance
From flesh and blood to mere bone
Death comes like a lance.