Corpses Line The tomb yard In a fading sun's dying light A bloody Rain Cleanses their innards A feast upon the fruitful flesh of life Ripped to shreds... A rotting hand Emerges from the grave bathed in dirt and sweet decay To tear The limbs From the torso Of all who pulse with the putrid form called life Reality fragments As the beginning Becomes the end And life A festering memory Defeated By carnal appetite Moonlight Bloody mist Descending fog Ensuing bliss Ripped to shreds... Ripped to shreds... Ripped to shreds... Shreds of flesh... Uuuuuuuuaaaarrgggh