Home Of The Grave
Birdflesh
Out of the mist, a living dead
Rotting legs without head
Evil laugh and freezing breath
I must go and greet his death
Now I’m dead, he killed me too
Skin and bones and just one shoe
Dig a hole and roll the dice
Into the grave with maggots and mice
Land of the free, home of the grave
I am dead, I won’t behave
Me earthly life I cannot save
Death is now my aftershave