Pulse expire, [bad word] in a burst
Black forecast of a lifelong thirst

Lord of the tomb by my side
Cadaverous, dead and insane in the eye
Speak a madman's prophecy

He will drain my soul when it is free
Phantoms of the grave kill to survive
Sucking death-energy from the ones who will die
Into death cast
spiral of the past
Eclipse grips for my soul
Torn from death's bed
And buried by the dead
Their hands are white and cold

Crawling through the soil and snow
Pitch-black grave cracks up below
Screams measure a timeless echo
Hideous figures laugh and beckon [bad word] through me
Souls imprisoned in gore
Malignant anguish never seen before
Victims drag their limbs across the halls of the dead
Funeral bell rings to celebrate the dread
Deteriorating
All my flesh and my bones
Are ready to explode in a gush of red foam [bad word] infectious death-disease is [bad word] of thoughts vanish as I die undead