Whisperers
LOÃC NOTTET · Selfocracy 2017 · Track 07 of 12
People fear death It comes, it takes The ones we love With no regrets Not knowing what will happen next But we know that Our turn awaits
The whisperers...
Death's taking those That we love most Its greed wants the best souls And leave the unworthy mortals They stay around So make no sound They're trying to get through All the voices whispering to you
The whisperers...
They whisper, they whisper The whisperers...