You're never alone
Even in your home
You're accompanied by that watchful eye
Who clocks your time
He stands in the shadows
Waiting on the next
Patient and responsible
Never late
He never forgets
Death is hard at work
All days of the year
When you're asleep
He is standing over your bed
Just waiting for that signal
To escort the dead
The kind of morbid job that haunts you
But it pays the rent
At least that's how he justifies it
Maybe someday he will be allowed to forget?
Death is hard at work
All days of the year
Death is hard at work
Three sixty-five days of the year
When he gets home
And hangs up his scythe
He only hears the whisper of
Each and every last breath
Death is haunted by
Each and every last cry
Tired of eternal existence
Between heaven and hell
God, "I've had enough of my sentence"
"Please send me back down below"
Cody James - Diligent Death Lyrics
Cody James - Diligent Death Lyrics
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You're never alone
Even in your home
You're accompanied by that watchful eye
Who clocks your time
He stands in the shadows
Waiting on the next
Patient and responsible
Never late
He never forgets
Death is hard at work
All days of the year
When you're asleep
He is standing over your bed
Just waiting for that signal
To escort the dead
The kind of morbid job that haunts you
But it pays the rent
At least that's how he justifies it
Maybe someday he will be allowed to forget?
Death is hard at work
All days of the year
Death is hard at work
Three sixty-five days of the year
When he gets home
And hangs up his scythe
He only hears the whisper of
Each and every last breath
Death is haunted by
Each and every last cry
Tired of eternal existence
Between heaven and hell
God, "I've had enough of my sentence"
"Please send me back down below"
Even in your home
You're accompanied by that watchful eye
Who clocks your time
He stands in the shadows
Waiting on the next
Patient and responsible
Never late
He never forgets
Death is hard at work
All days of the year
When you're asleep
He is standing over your bed
Just waiting for that signal
To escort the dead
The kind of morbid job that haunts you
But it pays the rent
At least that's how he justifies it
Maybe someday he will be allowed to forget?
Death is hard at work
All days of the year
Death is hard at work
Three sixty-five days of the year
When he gets home
And hangs up his scythe
He only hears the whisper of
Each and every last breath
Death is haunted by
Each and every last cry
Tired of eternal existence
Between heaven and hell
God, "I've had enough of my sentence"
"Please send me back down below"
Writer: Cody Miller
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid