Ain’t no hiding from the Reaper’s grasp.
From babes first breath till old man’s last.
It seems life happens way too fast
when one man’s now’s another’s past.
Death don’t rap against your door
‘less it’s your time, and that’s for sure.
A gentleman caller, and not much more,
who takes the rich ‘long with the poor.
No running, naw. Can’t get away.
No hiding, chiding, games to play.
When Death comes knocking on that day,
know ev’ryting’s irie, mon; will be okay.
The Reaper takes your from this space
and leads you to the after-place.
Leave behind your flesh-covered case;
the life you lived, your only trace.
So smile, live, and love your life,
your kids, your friends, your husband/wife,
and only stress when it’s true strife
‘fore Death calls with the Reaper’s knife.