Wretched were the tidings from much distance east
The wrath of god descended there as fog
The pestilence had smothered all living that it touched
And crept across the sea towards our shores
A corpse am I and black my eyes
Come see the world through these rotting holes
Become black flesh and wear thin to bones
To dust to blow together with the wind
The bishop and the sailor are alike
In superstition, the latrine and death
Both grab for their cross, kneel and pray
The reaper takes the other in his stead
Lo-behold the reaper is himself among us
Black as pits of hell, he gathers souls
Tall among the wailing crowds he walks
Everywhere he steps the dying fall
Fewer lights are lit tonight - the less for dying
The fiend of death is dining with the prince
A cry of sorrow issues from the deep
It summons all tonight into eternal sleep
Humanity - in gluttonous numbers
Has long been itching for some kind of doom
They weep now that it is here so soon
They flail themselves for it to be gone
Abstracted horror gnawls deeper North
The stench of death into life's bouquet
Of centuries without a bath - human worms
Behold the common grave this is your worth.
