Under a midnight full moon, the aged boneyard molders...
Headstones and vaults slumber in unsuspecting solitude
Naught lurks about the necropolis but nocturnal vermin, 'til...
With shovel and burlap sack, he appears - the body snatcher

Fiending for the foetid charnel fruit of fresh graves
To traffic corpses for anatomists' coin is his tenebrous trade
But some eldritch tomb, exercrably eerie, does he espy
And utther perversity urges him to explore the unnatural thing...

Your repulsive villainly repaid 'neath that untimely tomb
You're destined to suffer a deliciously well-deserved doom
Your pitiful carcass picked clean 'neath that untimely tomb
And dawn will see you survive as but a gross splattering of grume.

The resurrectionist rends open the tombs rusted door
And a shocking stench of shuddersome carrion besets him
Before him, steps spill down and undaunted he decends...
A loathsome lot of skulls and bones litter the passage.

Below, he finds a crypt, candle-lighted and utterly creepy
Seated there at a squalid table is a sickening, slavering sect:
The ghastly graveyard-ghouls, les cultes des necrovores
And he learns, all too late, that their supper is served...

Fiending for the foetid charnel fruit of fresh graves
To traffic corpses for anatomists' coin is his tenebrous trade
But some eldritch tomb, exercrably eerie, does he espy
And utther perversity urges him to explore the unnatural thing...

Your repulsive villainly repaid 'neath that untimely tomb
You're destined to suffer a deliciously well-deserved doom
Your pitiful carcass picked clean 'neath that untimely tomb
And dawn will see you survive as but a gross splattering of grume