Skeletal Gore - The Stench of Catacomb

Catacomb Stench

Stone cold
Petrified
Flesh rot
Putrified

Coins on your lids
Skin turning pale
Death planted seed
The soul you exhale
Narrow passages that
Lead to your demise
As you're forced to fight
Your greatest enemy
Your own mind

Where corpses are left to rot

Ten thousand corpses awake
Unholy spirits and blood-thirsty ghouls
Allucinations inducted
By the germ of insanity
Inside your brain

Victimize
Disfigure
Assassinate
Suffocate
Starve
Dehidrate

The Stench of Catacomb
Stain of Death on your skin
One hundred feet underground
Pagan forces of old

Credits
Writer(s): Francesco Davì
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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