Everything starts, everything ends.
Time builds the bar and Death sets the chairs.
Silence for music, the flicker of candle light.
All frail and a customer wanders in for a drink tonight.

Young boy at fifteen, cold glossed eyes.
Frozen lips parts, hollow voice flies from his empty throat.
"What can I have tonight, this late?"
Death turns with a bony grin, "Pick your poison, mate.
You're done, you're finished, wasn't it fun?"

"I wish it would all just end here. Right now, at this time.
I've been separated from my parents, I have no where to go.
I want it to end, just here."
Death grins and sprinkles his brew, hands the poor boy his beer.
"Drink up and you'll see. We'll take care of you,
That we can guarantee."

The boy takes a sip and soon falls down.
Spiralling from light, slipping into the comfort of his death bed.
Time checks his hour and nods to Death, "We've got more coming, it's the main rush."
Death cleans the bar and Time sets the tables, serving their customers all in hush.

Some sacrificed their children to pay for their own lives.
Others tried to bribe with virgin young boys and girls.

No bribes, no extended lives.
They just filled their guestbooks and carried on.
Time waits.
Death reaps.

One last drink, one last breath. . . .
Oh dear, it looks like you're . .
DEAD!