Claws pulled back in dismay Behold the Morbid Saints, last march Lungs now filled with unfailing dark Leaving a whining Shadow in your blood White light - black rain Behold the Morbid Saints, last parade Cascades of ash and swift decay Screaming whispers of a Funeral Dawn Wreaths of black iron, Deathcult caravan Behold the Morbid Saint in his grave Murderous current of needle-sharp teeth Sunken deep into the flesh of the unwashed