At last it's coming up, the sun

The bodysnatcher's day be gone

With blackened teeth and ruddy skin

And swigging long upon his gin

He's weak with his breaking back

The corpse he carries in his sack.

The bulging burlap caked with clay

Is foul yet musky from where it lay

Beside his shovel, oh precious rubble

Inside her cold and lonely grave

The mournful wind sings songs of praise:

How lovely she in her blue dress

Behold the tempting virgin flesh

Her sunken eyes filled with blind grace

Her shrunken lips with secret tastes ..

For raven hair in tangles coiled

Upon white satin, he hath toiled.

He'd held her dainty feet and sighed...

The downy smooth upon her thighs

And wrapped within his fraying scarf

One little heart floats in a jar...

Swaying quiet now lifts his head

This robber stops to toast the dead

And pray will he in town lust waits

For paid he'll be by pounds just weighed...

This night he'll roam the streets of mud

He's slushing down these roads of blood

Tonight he'll own the meat and mud

This night he'll roam the streets of mud

HE'S SLUSHING DOWN THESE ROADS OF BLOOD

Tonight he'll own the meat and mud

HE'LL DRINK THESE STREETS

HE'LL EAT THIS BLOOD

How lovely she in her blue dress

Behold the tempting virgin flesh

Ravished only by one called

Death