Bare feet on a stool
Neck attached to the ceiling
By a length of rope
His last words read
A debt too great to pay
I must end myself
A shadow enters
All dressed for business
He whispers a last word
In the noosed man's ear
His soul flies, the reaper jar
The marksman returns for his bullet back
You'll sell your body to get this soul back
Value in submission
It ends in the minute when they
Forgot their own name
Living his life caught in a forgotten dream
Standing there mouthing silent pointless...
He walks ill at ease
Through the dregs of the city
Man with a mask made of skull
The reaper's enemy
To not let them go
He lost his name to the bottom of oceans
Unpayable debt
Echoes of life
His soul flies, the reaper jar
Where the water meets the sky
With the moon submerged
Here is where we'll sell them
Dead of night
Echoes of life contained within a jar
The rarest matter in creation
Traded and sold
