Testo di Grand Morbid Funeral

With rags drenched in the deaths of our own kind A massive tail of rats align our steps behind Scattered crosses in every corner of our eyes While our mouths drown in oceans of swarming flies Black death leprosy slithers on skin Pierced from within Fever grins like a madman's face Ungodly fall from grace Foul rash of agonized bleeding The pulse receding Vultures circle impatiently To carve the flesh from bone fatally Many a moon on, escape from a death so certain The plague breathes down our necks just as sure as night's curtain Trapped to wander this procession of inhumation Our bloodline parched on a cursed road to stagnation