Something rotten lays beneath The chilling earthen floor As if the stench has carried With it some distant song In the morning some tome of violins Dissonate and invoking Calling forth terrible dreams From unknown planes Visions of terror entwine With darkenend reality From charnel hallways Come the glowing mists... Creeping through the windows Seeping through the stone Walls begin to bleed And the violins go insane Heat of lava, cold of space Eyes sewn shut to see The wounds with dreams The witch unveiled One by one they are cut Strings of devil's harp Morbid silence falls And only death awaits.