A worn out road leading straight to the end, told a story of woe, the road was black and the road was bent, so mark the exit plan and go. Walk down and remember, as we tear ourselves in two. When everybody´s gone, I close my eyes to see. When death comes knocking on your door say please, give me a ride. A twisted road, leading straight to death, told a story of pain, the road was pale, the road took your breath, so mark the exit plan again. First step, go! second flows down that road,so brave! Third step done, fourth will come, right into the grave. Walk down and remember, as we tear ourselves in two. When everybody´s gone, I close my eyes to see, when death comes knocking on your door say please, give me a ride. Exit plan, to the end.