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When loved Ones die, we bid Farewell.
In Grief we cry to the Sound of Knell.
To Bear this Loss is our Concern.
But Feelings change, once they return

All Corpses are Bastards.
With Blood their Skin is plastered.
All Corpses are Bastards.
No Laws, no Gods, no Masters.

The Bond of Love is dead and gone.
Replaced with Fury that the Grave has spawned.
Familiar Faces yet so unknown.
Better run for cover when you hear them moan.

All Corpses are Bastards.
With Blood their Skin is plastered.
All Corpses are Bastards.
No Laws, no Gods, no Masters.

Hazy Eyes stare at you, but they don't recognize.
Who you are, so crack their Skulls with A wrecking Bar.

Expect no Mercy, don't hope for Grace.
Solicit no Compassion, when they eat your Face.

King and Beggar, Dame and Whore.
They're now Troopers in the Undead Corps.

All Corpses are Bastards.
With Blood their Skin is plastered.
All Corpses are Bastards.
No Laws, no Gods, no Masters.

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