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Black is the night full is the moon Picking the flesh from my teeth The thick fog rises midnight is soon Prowling the streets stalking for meat as the necrophiliac You cannot hide because I will find you And you will rot Approaching my victim I make my advance My eyes have her entranced With hands cold as death and skin white as bone Fangs are injected draining her blood the whore lies in pain With ripped out tendons and the marks of hell She will rot The thick fog is rising up to the moon The coffin opens I am the one who rises from the grave To drink the blood of the living Feeding the maggots leftover fleshIt's frightening to know that I am dead And as the prince of hell I'm calling you Blood on the floor, blood in my mouth I love the taste of death Decaying afterbirth falls from her face To all of you people who do not believe In my sorcery from hell Held in my bondage and tortured to death And you will rot!

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Rigor Mortis

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