Behold this vision to the other side A land of shadows parallel to the seen It exists for the reason of dying No-one lives in this place It exists solely for the dying The stink of decaying souls The smell of rotting spirits Sometimes the wind carries That stench with its breath The souls captive and present here Leprous entities weakened by pestilence Are weeping agonized by decay They carry a tune so sombre "Perdition eternal" The gateway to beyond Is only reached by dying The key to oblivion It's in the hands of the dying Land of the dead Necropolis Where the dead linger on In endless suffering Realm of the lost A land of putrefaction There the spirits cry on and on In eternal misery