Blackhorned

Lunatic full moon syndrome

Blackhorned
The church bell rings for the dead
Darkness falls and the pale moon rises
The chill of the skin - the creeps on my back
Eyes in the dark
Dead voices speaks to me

The wind blows cold
So cold - so deadly cold
I see myself dead

Nerve system stunned
Hair stand on my back
Whispers all around me - ghostly chants
My blood freezes to ice
My limbs stiffens by fright

They arise from their graves
Stumbling lifeless nowhere

Nowhere - going nowhere
Under the full moon lunacy
Lunatic full moon syndrome
Lunar sick!

The church bell rings again
By hands of the dead
I feel the no more life - skin turns blue
My eyes dry out - i ache as i move

In the graveyard - the icy shadows
The thumb sounds of bodies falling
The moon is red - i am dead!

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