Under the ground
A beautiful world
Odour of death
Stench of the rotting!

You're carving for more
We see them dead, lying still
No life, no movement
No smile on pale face!

Do they fell
The wooden world
Cold tomb walls
No sun, no air

Darkness without the sound
No life, no sences at all
No screams or anger!
No blink in the fucking eye!

Where is your consciousness
Buried under, with maggots
Worms from the below!

Where is your breath
That was carried before
So intense, now so mild!

Corpse rotting stench
That's what's comming out
From the wreached remains

No morbid mourning
For those who are done!
Ground comsumes
What left of us!

This is the world of graves
Neverending funeral
Of dying ages

Si Fractur illabatur orbis
Impavidum ferient rumae!