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“St John is a mangled corpse; I alone know why, and such is my knowledge that I am about to blow out my brains for fear I shall be mangled in the same way. Down unlit and illimitable corridors of eldrich phantasy sweeps the black, shapeless Nemesis that drives me to self-annihilation.”

Hound!

Grave diggers by night, we rob the dead
and steal their treasures
We are dark souls doing the deeds,
of Devils

Stumbling across the grave of the
mad Arab Abdul Alhazred
Cursed is this grave, a single piece of loot
being an oriental amulet

We Pull up the coffin
Inside the Arab's bones well preserved
No amulet on his neck, now in our grasp
we hear...


The Baying! Of the Hound!
Blasphemous howls on the wind,
striking fear into hearts of men!
The Baying! Of the Hound!
The bones in the casket were
viciously maimed as if
some sort of creature scathed!

The voyage home became an escape
from the horrible sounds
emanating from the grave
At last, thought to be safe
but ever so faintly ...


The Baying! Of the Hound!
Blasphemous howls on the wind,
Tearing evil men, limb from limb!
The Baying! Of the Hound!
Ominous sounds driving the robbers mad
stories and legends
altering their bartering plans!

Gone insane by the sounds Saint John
went to sell the jade amulet
Before he could he was extremely maimed
by a canine beast of elder kind!
I came upon his body horrified for the amulet was stolen
then I hear of two merchants with the same fate,
As Saint John!

I traveled back to that pale
dutch graveyard and unearthed
the same horrid grave

To my horror I found the Arab's corpse
caked in blood and alien flesh

I never set foot in that churchyard again
for weeks and weeks the baying increased

"I shall seek, with my revolver Oblivion!
Which is my refuge, from the unnameable.”

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