Out in the graveyard during foggy mid-day
Death approaches and demands you pay
You've crossed his threshold, into his realm.
Into the place where the undead dwell.
You ask for his payment and he demands it be pain
So you ponder and ponder what he has to gain.
You take the offered knife and draw a line if blood.
All while saying, "what must be done must be done"
He holds out a goblet, and accepts your offering.