Phantasm

In a time of sorrow and grieving People wrought with mourning No one watching the crypts The hands of the tall man bursting through glass He cannot die, he’s come to take your dead Enslaving the corpses of the dearly departed Not of this dimension, not of this plane He’s laid waste to whole towns Turned them into desolate husks You shall answer to the reaper Once he comes to raise your body The spreading atrocity on the outskirts Supplying slaves to horrors unknown In a different kind of hell The spheres of death his minions Coming to drill between your eyes And when you’re dead he’ll take you too He will collect your family and friends And then he’ll move on, to the next place He raids the graveyard, he takes the flesh Ripped back to life with sickly yellow blood He’s laid waste to whole towns Turned them into desolate husks You shall answer to the reaper Once he comes to raise your body