Exhumer

He goes to the cemetery, dead of night

Spade and bag at his back, empty sight

He digs up soil of grave under moon

Deep in ground, can't see him inside the tomb

He lifts the lid of wooden coffin

Feeling smell of rotten flesh

Buried corpse not long ago, it begins decay

Searching values, l ooking at the corpse

He sees a golden ring

The precious stone shining in the night

Attracts the evil man

Trying to take it off from the finger of the corpse

Deadly frozen cold

Swollen from the pus hand of dead man

He can't take it off

He takes a knife, cuts the hand of the corpse

Crack of bones, tearing veins, clots of gore

Taking the hand of the corpse in his hand

Smile on face. Puts it down in his bag

He looks at the skull, opens the mouth with the knife

Ossified flesh can't stand for itself

Pulling out gold teeth, nothing can stop him

Verminous mouth full of white maggots

He takes in his hand the knife

And cuts the mouth of corpse

Maggots are falling down

From rotten flesh on dampy earth

He wants to leave the robbed grave

He stands on putrid corpse

His foot breaks rotten chest

And falls in intestines

Pungent stench of fetid goo

Splash of pus and broken bones

Clatches at the cold tombstone

Come out from the open grave

He goes to the cemetery, dead of night

Spade and bag at his back, empty sight

He digs up soil of grave under moon

Deep in ground, can't see him inside the tomb