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Something rotten lays beneath
The chilling earthen floor
As if the stench has carried
With it some distant song

In the mourning tome of violins
Dissonate and invoking
Calling forth terrible dreams
From unknown planes

Visions of terror entwine
With darkenend reality
From charnel hallways
Come the glowing mists...

Creeping through the windows
Seeping through the stone
Walls begin to bleed
And the violins go insane

Heat of lava, cold of space
Eyes sewn shut to see
The wounds with dreams
The witch unveiled

One by one they are cut
Strings of the devil's harp
Morbid silence falls
And only death awaits

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