deep in the catacombs, dripping with slime potions and slaves I concoct a bottle of bile, skull cap of chyme a bat wing wrapped up in a sock elixirs of gore boil over and flare as human entrails roast the stench of the dead permeates the air all things considered, its really gross
pots full of scum carried sloppily above splatters echo throughout the hallways poured from their vessels, they sink underground leaving steam and the stench of decay
raising the dead, what backbreaking work the night watchman didnt quite get it cut off his head and broke the back of the jerk he saw Ghoul and we made him regret it tomb after tomb, we creep through the graveyard preparing the dead for their razing softening the earth with micological mixtures the results really are quite amazing
we came for the dead and the dead we will take no mercy for those in their coffins with spades and pick-axes we'll plunder their crypts devouring early and often rising from the grave in the truest sense freed from their poisons of pine corpse resurrection to be used in confections their blood to be turned into wine
baubles and trinkets we snarf out the tombs to trade at the curio shop glass eyes are pried from gelatinous heads and chucked in a bucket with the rest of the slop back into the catacombs our nightly feast has come to a close clotting blood slowly drips from our mouths as wafting stink creeps up my nose
nightly excursions, grotesque perversions brewing their guts in a vat as death haunts the living, we stalk the unbreathing we'd like to let it be known that, WE CAME FOR THE DEAD !!!!