Из альбома: Saturday Night Evil
Our days are numbered, one will be the last,
When lived lives start sliding to the past
They await us then under the ground,
Those slimy creatures down there abound
They'll eat us
Defeat us
They will feast with our rotting flesh
We're equal, one's sequel
Our white bones they will caress
The feasting starts when we are laid
To rest in our crowded grave
In the end there's just a pile of bone,
Under cold and lonely headstone
They'll eat us
Defeat us
They will feast with our rotting flesh
We're equal, one's sequel
Our white bones they will caress