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To the morgue, take him to the morgue.

To the morgue, take him to the morgue.

At Devil Lake Sanitarium, many a patient had died in vain.

Never a question to be asked, never a thing to explain.

So they took his bones and skin to the morgue in the West Wing.

It was clear to Dr. Eastmann, Harry had died of fright in the night.

If he had cared he would have found the spider, laying eggs in Harry's neck.

The smoldering eyes in Harry's head had become the home of spiders instead.

To the morgue, take him to the morgue.

To the morgue, take him to the morgue.

To the morgue, we must all go to the morgue.

To the morgue, we must all go to the morgue.

Deep down below the ground, where it was kind of cold and damp.

Too many stiffs to be fit in the cooler, gathering dust in the hallways of Death.

The smoldering eyes in Harry's head had become the home of spiders instead.

Spiders here, spider's everywhere.

Spiders feeding the dead to their young.

Spiders here, spider's everywhere.

Spiders using the dead for their home.

Spiders, they're growing like rats from the plague.

Spiders, there's so many more everyday.

Summer is coming to an end and the cellar in the morgue is a nest now.

One thousand poisonous creatures, eight thousand poisonous legs!

The smoldering eyes in Harry's head had become the home of spiders instead.

To the morgue, we must all go to the morgue.

To the morgue, we must all go to the morgue.

Deep down below the ground, we must all go to the morgue.

To the morgue, we must all go to the morgue.

Deep down below the ground, we must all go to the morgue.

To the morgue, we must all go to the morgue.