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Merlin the Mystic, he guards ten thousands graves

Bribe him with a flask but don't give up your name

Sitting at the gates in the middle of the night

Witching hour, corpse arise, when the time is right

Scheming 'neath the moon

Casting wicked spells

Punish hearts so dark

Drag them into hell

Breathed its rancid stench

Reject humanity

Summon dead's return

Each day waits for

Zombies seeking out the flesh of humans

Zombies ripping up the flesh

Abandoned the world, a cemetery home

Solitude so pure, yet cold and so alone

Merlin weeps