Twilight Breath of Satan

The freshly interred corpse

Greets with a rotten fragrance

Sweet scent of death and decay

Caressing the catacomb

Ghastly face of bone

Where her smile had been

Ravished while she lived

Desecrated in death

Twisted thoughts , necrolust

What she had best to offer

Is now but a blackened hole

No more pleasures of flesh

Sick memories are stirring

Through a black looking - glass

Deep in the demented mind

She still laughs with joy

One final graven kiss

From her imaginary lips

Tormented chattering

Echoes in the dark

Her bones and a shotgun

Laid on the wooden table

Both barrels full of Satan's breath

For the last twilight rite