At midnight under a full moon red as spilled blood,
Unto a cemetery moldering amidst deconsecration,
A mysterious cult of worshippers have assembled.
They would witness returned the horror of horrors ...
The ghastly fiend of the charnel house ... Orloff !
Hideous and grim, upon nightmares he verily feasts!
Those aspiring devotees would revel in his name
And with perverse debaucheries, the ritual begins!

A funeral pall falls across the already black night.
And the bitter winds howl like restless phantoms.
It is then that Orloff arises from Death's embrace,
Worms dripping from his long-ensanguined mouth.
But he eyes those before him with utter contempt.
Their spurious modernity offends his macabre taste.
They then do shudder when he sneers upon them,
But swollen wineskins, waiting to be drained ... !

Dreadful Count Orloff from his tomb rises ...
The feeble horrors of the day he despises
Upon dilettantes and poseurs he shall feed
And spread black terror to fulfill his Need!

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