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Under a midnight full moon, the aged boneyard molders...

Headstones and vaults slumber in unsuspecting solitude

Naught lurks about the necropolis but nocturnal vermin, 'til...

With shovel and burlap sack, he appears - the Body Snatcher

Fiending for the foetid charnel fruit of fresh graves

To traffic corpses for anatomists' coin is his tenebrous trade

But some eldritch tomb, exercrably eerie, does he espy

And utther Perversity urges him to explore the unnatural thing...

Your repulsive villainly repaid 'neath that Untimely Tomb

You're destined to suffer a deliciously well-deserved doom

Your pitiful carcass picked clean 'neath that Untimely Tomb

And dawn will see you survive as but a gross splattering of grume.

The Resurrectionist rends open the tombs rusted door

And a shocking stench of shuddersome carrion besets him

Before him, steps spill down and undaunted he decends...

A loathsome lot of skulls and bones litter the passage.

Below, he finds a crypt, candle-lighted and utterly creepy

Seated there at a squalid table is a sickening, slavering sect:

The ghastly graveyard-ghouls, Les Cultes Des Necrovores

And he learns, all too late, that their supper is served...

Fiending for the foetid charnel fruit of fresh graves

To traffic corpses for anatomists' coin is his tenebrous trade

But some eldritch tomb, exercrably eerie, does he espy

And utther Perversity urges him to explore the unnatural thing...

Your repulsive villainly repaid 'neath that Untimely Tomb

You're destined to suffer a deliciously well-deserved doom

Your pitiful carcass picked clean 'neath that Untimely Tomb

And dawn will see you survive as but a gross splattering of grume