Death’s Tea Party
He sits in the underworld
Guarding our souls,
And drinking our happiness
Straight from the bowl.
Everyone’s there at death’s tea party.
And it’s his burden to bear.
And if you choose to anger the reaper
It is his choice to spare…
But do not quake in the face of death
For it will show you mercy
Do not hand death your fear, my child,
No matter how much you think it is
That’s not a common courtesy.
Though death may take our happiness, I fear
It shall not truly take our soul.
