In the deadest of nights I perform a graveside disservice, Disinhuming the

remains of those who I deem to deserve this, A corpse dead to rights will

undergo this rigorous trashing, Selecting the tomb of the poor stiff that

tonight I will be thrashing... Exhumed from the shelter of earth's dusty

embrace for a morbid curiosity, Then abruptly dismembered without

compunction, just pure feriocity... Consumed and left to welter, In shredded

entrails and long dessciated pus, Wiping the firt from my hands, As I walk

from the grave that I've trampled to dust... Caskets uprooted, mausoleums

stained red, Riding high six feet deep amongst the deadest of the dead, A

tombstone is the sole mute witness, To necro-attrocities as I endeavor to

split this... Corpse in half, stricken by my wrath, The carcass is maimed,

Cleft by pick-axe, halved, quartered and smashed, The gravesite's in flames,

Culled from the reams of obituaries deep in the cemetary, I torment the

entombed, The dead should be wary of the grudges I carry, Deep into the

gloom... Riding high six feet under, Inhale the stench of my nocturnal

plunderm I'll never find piece in a cold, hard death bed, Until I have found

the deadest of the dead... Your insipid epitaph rots, In the dead-letter file,

A necrophile's smile beguiles, Your remains thus defiled, The decrepit

laughter echoes, In the now vacant burial plot, Decayed, dead and decomposed,

But in peace you'll never rot... Piss on the unholy grave, torso carved and

depraved, Now gone the way of all flesh to give me this day my daily death,

The next to fall prey to my sepulchural slaughter, Another dead festering

corpse whose demise has at last brought her... Under the blade, she's carved

up and flayed, Body dismembered, No respects paid, I hack up the slayed,