In a field of upturned crosses, beneath the broken tombs
As dawn approaches funerals are closed
The earth bemoans its losses as the Devil’s hand exhumes
Warm spirits from their coffin-bound repose

Phantoms wrapped in cloth, souls on wingless flight
Their bodies, left to rot, indulge in pleasures foul
Obscenities infernal
Obsequies, eternal revelry

As the pallid moon encroaches upon an opened crypt
It stares beyond the maggots and decay
For until dawn approaches, each cadaver is gripped
With untapped lust and held within its sway

Phantoms wrapped in cloth, souls on wingless flight
Their bodies, left to rot, indulge in pleasures foul
Obscenities infernal
Obsequies, eternal revelry

Flesh unshackled of all morals, for so long fettered taut
Sinks deep into debauchery and sin
And while the spirits quarrel in a paradise of sorts
Below remains a carnival of skin