Bare feet on a stool Neck attached to the ceiling By a length of rope His last words read A debt too great to pay I must end myself A shadow enters All dressed for business He whispers a last word In the noosed man's ear The soul flies, the reaper jar The marksman returns for his bullet back You'll sell your body to get this soul back Value in submission It ends in the minute when they Forgot their own name Living his life caught in a forgotten dream Standing there mouthing silent pointless... He walks ill at ease Through the dregs of the city Man with a mask made of skull The reaper's enemy To not let them go He lost his name to the bottom of the oceans Unpayable debt Echoes of life His soul flies, the reaper jar Where the water meets the sky With the moon submerged Here is where we'll sell them In dead of night Echoes of life contained within a jar The rarest matter in creation Traded and sold