Under the arc of the weather stain boards Ancient goblins, and warlords Come out of the ground, not making a sound The smell of death is all around And the nights come and the cold wind blows
No one cares and nobody knows
I don't want to be buried in a pet cemetery
I don't want to live my life again
I'll follow Victor to a sacred place There ain't no dream I can escape Molars and fangs and clicking of bones Spirits moaning among the tombstones When the night has come and the moon is bright Someone cries and something ain't right
Chorus:
The moon is full, the air is still All of a sudden I feel a chill Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away Skeletons dance, I curse this day And on the night when the wolves cry out