The freshly interred corpse Greets with a rotten fragrance Sweet scent of death and decay Caressing the catacomb Ghastly face of bone Where her smile had been Ravished while she lived Desecrated in death
Twisted thoughts , necrolust What she had best to offer Is now but a blackened hole No more pleasures of flesh Sick memories are stirring Through a black looking - glass Deep in the demented mind She still laughs with joy
One final graven kiss From her imaginary lips Tormented chattering Echoes in the dark Her bones and a shotgun Laid on the wooden table Both barrels full of Satan's breath For the last twilight rite