The night of the profanators

Entering the old cemetery
Treating on this pathetic crossfield
Laughing at false beliefs
Overcrowded seems the so-called heaven!

A morbid lust inside us
You won't rust in peace
So terrific pulsions
It's the night of the profanators!

Opening the heavy gravestone
Is growing the deathlust
Coffins wait for our raping
The eternal sleep ends now!

Debris of clothes,rotten flesh
Maron bones, smiling skull
Teeming vermin

Smell of death gives so good feelings
Insanity's our own religion
We're the one really alive
We choose to rust in hell!

Your soul is mine…