We make light of death
in our effort to shrug it off
we think of it more at night on our bed
still, we spend our youth and scoff

"Grim reaper can't get me till I'm ready"
we say as we beef up our defense
At the same time feeling age heavy
still going on with new offense

But the ol' grim reaper we see as death
is hanging round, waiting for our last breath
Shunning and putting off, we do our best
to push far into the future, that grave rest

Where the soul departs
and the flesh rots
unbeating heart
still on record, the blots

How ya gonna answer
what ya gonna say
Can ya still banter
when grim reaper calls ya away?

Put the grim reaper in his place today
death has no power over the soul
Gods' shed blood is the Ace of Grace
it kicks the grim reaper back to his hole

For with Grace and a Blood washed soul
my name is placed on Heaven's great roll
Safe from sins cajole, up there I'll soon stroll
what'cha gonna say when death comes for your soul?