The hacking wheezes of confined plagued patients

In morbid garments marking humans time

Plague doctors fume the air, deaths acquaintance

The benign bells macabre pantomime

The disease swallows your soul like a void

As the black ooze leaks from your swollen lungs

Leaving your heart and your soul all destroyed

Her, so far away, is no longer young

But it will happen to us all some day

There is no such thing as alluding death

Through the pompous magic archway

To kiss you and take away your last breath

While you try to walk past the shards of fate

Though you still end up at the Lord Deaths gate