The grave robber's work is never done,
It's up all night and sleep all day,
The hours are s*** with hell to pay.
Pockets are brimming from our unique brand of sinning,
When the ladies claw my back at night,
I know I'm doing something right.
I deliver the goods as long as they don't ask,
Deny I'm a working stiff like dear old dad,
And to you and yours nothing but curses,
You'll slave your life away,
And for what?
You're just as dead as these old f****.
They'll never get me,
I'll never run out of stock,
With every second that ticks past,
The bodies are still stacking up.
So I've clipped a few fingers off to get that gold for which I l*** from the deadman's bank and trust,
To the depths of hell or bust.
The blackened bits of exhumed evidence embedded neath my fettered fingernails,
It's but a smallish part of what our dirty work entails.
Come dance with me,
This graveyard planet that you've called Earth you hold in such a high regard,
It's but as worthless as a t***.
Will you follow me into the dark?
I rob the dead for what they're worth,
Jewels, wealth, clothing, s**.
When the mood prefers to carve a sullen path through life,
Within the fallen's shoes you'd turn your nose at me,
Although I smell of sheik perfumes.
So I've clipped a few fingers off to get that gold for which I l*** from the deadman's bank and trust,
To the depths of hell or bust.
Haunted by faces when I try to close my eyes,
So deeply it festers,
The guilt is murder.
The blackened bits of exhumed evidence embedded neath my fettered fingernails,
It's but a smallish part of what our dirty work entails.
May the gods have mercy.
It's up all night and sleep all day,
The hours are s*** with hell to pay.
Pockets are brimming from our unique brand of sinning,
When the ladies claw my back at night,
I know I'm doing something right.
I deliver the goods as long as they don't ask,
Deny I'm a working stiff like dear old dad,
And to you and yours nothing but curses,
You'll slave your life away,
And for what?
You're just as dead as these old f****.
They'll never get me,
I'll never run out of stock,
With every second that ticks past,
The bodies are still stacking up.
So I've clipped a few fingers off to get that gold for which I l*** from the deadman's bank and trust,
To the depths of hell or bust.
The blackened bits of exhumed evidence embedded neath my fettered fingernails,
It's but a smallish part of what our dirty work entails.
Come dance with me,
This graveyard planet that you've called Earth you hold in such a high regard,
It's but as worthless as a t***.
Will you follow me into the dark?
I rob the dead for what they're worth,
Jewels, wealth, clothing, s**.
When the mood prefers to carve a sullen path through life,
Within the fallen's shoes you'd turn your nose at me,
Although I smell of sheik perfumes.
So I've clipped a few fingers off to get that gold for which I l*** from the deadman's bank and trust,
To the depths of hell or bust.
Haunted by faces when I try to close my eyes,
So deeply it festers,
The guilt is murder.
The blackened bits of exhumed evidence embedded neath my fettered fingernails,
It's but a smallish part of what our dirty work entails.
May the gods have mercy.