We came for the dead

Mean and infectious The evil prophets rise Dance of the macabre As witches streak the sky Decadent worship Of black magic and sorcery In the womb of the devil's dungeon Trapped without a plea See...

Dead things are what we adore, Gut chomping fiends that get snockered on gore In boneyards we prefer to dine A baby, our dinner; black blood is our wine Breaking open caskets to grab a bite to eat...

Let me introduce you to a very special fiend a twisted hunchback with stringy white hair peddler of curios and Ghoul benefactor at a dusty little place down the road from our lair His name is of no...

I'll take all the guts from a rotten old stiff and choose what I want with a taste or a whiff pack them in jars and infuse them with yeast to brew up a batch for the next midnight feast my skill as a...

A hatchet is employed to chop and dice cleaving meat from bone with a sickening slice butchered and bagged with expert skill so the neighborhood bums can get their fill Curdled fat and spetic bowels...

Chimneys choked with soot belching flame from the furnace erupts a funeral pyre for the newly deceased the long dead and the freshly defunct a human candle with a guttering flame melting fat in the...

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 entrance beckoned them within a gaping graveyard irruption they had no clue what horrors lied beyond the cobweb skein down slimy steps of living rock they were enveloped by the dark their fates...

Bones encased in oblong boxes harvested for a feast, macabre organ meats hungrily devoured by a loathsome trio of freakish slobs arms and legs strewn from stem to stern an abattoir beneath the crypts...