| Tears wet the coffin dust
|
| Mourning stains the wooden lid
|
| Through the sadness and depression
|
| I awake in the stone cold grave
|
| Weird glow in the vault around me
|
| A sense of freezing atmosphere
|
| A coffin spirit of past remembrance
|
| Howling at the moon in my memories
|
| All around the cobwebs are silent
|
| Even spiders have died so long ago
|
| Void of life in hear is so definite
|
| I exist but not to live again
|
| In my death the omens were profound
|
| Tongues that uttered curse and doom
|
| Born under the Master’s spell
|
| Hungry for the warmth that I would spit on
|
| Tears wet the coffin dust
|
| Mourning stains the wooden lid
|
| Through the sadness and depression
|
| I awake in the stone cold grave
|
| There is no life, no humanity
|
| Nothing to keep me from suffering
|
| Nothing to feed my burning soul with
|
| Nothing to spill my hate upon |