Time before the band will march
They'll prepare themselves
Get ready for the time when they start
And through the grass they'll play their songs
Making the day of death
The day of morning
Feel so long
Cause they are the entertainment
They are the life of the party of death
And they'll play the saddest tunes
But not a single of them will cry any tears
Not any of them will sing the blues
Cause it's just a job they are paid to do
It's just a lifestyle that they choose
And all around them they'll hear the sobs and cries
The screaming voices of all who died
They'll feel the chill and run away
Smell the rotten flesh of the dead decayed
They'll run from the grounds
Instruments still making sound
Run from the invisible fiends grabbing their legs
They'll scream from the silent sound
Get sick from the smell
The dead crawling back up from hell
The band will march the other way
Away from the dead come out to play
But they'll grow tired soon
And go to their homes
Crawl in bed
Where they believe they are alone
But in the night
And in their heads
They are visited by the demons
Visited by the dead
They'll be no place to run
Not a place to hide
The fiends will control
Wanting the band to die
For disturbing their sleep
Disturbing their rest
The demons will scream suicide
And the band will agree
It's the only way
Their instruments left untouched, no longer will play
And they take the guns
And grab the knives
Doing what the dead tells them is right
And they'll march to the cemetery
In silent atone
Each one falling in graves with their very own
headstone
And they'll smell the dead
And like the taste
It will become something they need
Something they crave
And they'll rest
Until the next band will march
Cause they are the entertainment
Then the dead will give them a taste of what they get
When they disturb their sleep
Playing their happy tunes
And failing to weep
They'll become the life of the party of death

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