Many impostors and freaks Came to my funeral To spit on my remains Bells rang nothing No one to chant my acts But ravens and larvas Feel to should have been vanquished Left alone in my tomb Trapped in these useless nimbs Rage, is left into my eyes Awaken, rather than dead My contemplation of the other side You came to desecrate in the night Angry, Undead! Untamed, in fury Angry, Undead! I returned the pike in your fine brain I twist, may you feel the pain You're jerk's prostrated face As I leave the grave My path, you brutally embraced Rage, is left into my eyes Extend your skin long through the ground And experiment the process Of becoming compost Angry, Undead! Untamed, in fury Vanish! Vanish! Vanish! Suffer a dozen pigments Towards your decrepit mutation The enthrallment of an abysmal possession You'll follow, into the ground...