Stone cold Petrified Flesh rot Putrified Coins on your lids Skin turning pale Death planted seed The soul you exhale Narrow passages that Lead to your demise As you're forced to fight Your greatest enemy Your own mind Where corpses are left to rot Ten thousand corpses awake Unholy spirits and blood-thirsty ghouls Allucinations inducted By the germ of insanity Inside your brain Victimize Disfigure Assassinate Suffocate Starve Dehidrate The Stench of Catacomb Stain of Death on your skin One hundred feet underground Pagan forces of old