Death has reared himself a throne in a city lying all alone
Far down within the dim west
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest
All the dead men's fame and glory is but a dim-remembered story
At the crack of dawn
Some died in the grace of God, some struggled with the hangman's knot
Until salvation has come
Trailing a path or walking on the razor's edge
Death pays all debts and there won't be no regrets
When the preachers croak disasters, warn the perish of the masters
And the evil calls
All the good men and the bad and the worst and the best
Tend to hesitate and fall
Trailing a path or walking on the razor's edge
Death pays all debts and there won't be no regrets