Feed the worms
As they multiply, will it satisfy appetite of the ill-willed grotesque poet?
Feed the worms
Will it be enough?
This archaic blood
Sacrificed to quench the thirst that fuels the hurt of the underworld
The underworld has come to collect your soul
Belly groans for the feast of extinction
Crows flock to the head of your tombstone
To the grave, you go
Meet your maker
To the grave, you go
Meet your maker, feed the worms
Underworld inflamed with a thirst for extinction
Pen goes to paper, but it's never enough
Poet for the dead, what did you live for?
Poet for the dead with words left to write
Poet for the dead, can you hear me?
Poet for the dead, in the end, what did you live for?
The crows, they flock to your tomb
Undertaker eyes in the face of the Moon
Poet for the dead, what's left to write?
Will it be enough to save your life?
Pen goes to paper
But it's never enough for the ill-willed grotesque underworld
Feed the worms
Feed the worms
Feed the worms
Belly groans for the feast of your soul
Feed the worms
Now, you will burn
Poet for the dead, in the end, what did you live for?
Burn
Poet for the dead, in the end, what did you live for?
