Phallicide

Army of the undead

Phallicide
Tall man, robber of graves
Master of torture to those he enslaves
Dwarf-men, Hooded and robed
Slaves to the Lord of the Dead

No-one can stop his reign of terror
Hiding or resisting is useless
Hearses are driving to your town
Soon you'll be crushed like the rest

Lying there in a pool of brains and blood
Your body is dragged into the embalming room
Blood drained and replaced with yellow fluid
Corpse then compacted to a dwarf

Packed tight into a coffin-barrel
Sent through the dimensional fork
Enslaved upon his evil planet
You've joined the Army of the Undead

His mausoleum a museum of the living dead
His evil footsteps echo where few have dared to tread
His flying sphere of torture attaches to your head
Brains drilled out you're twitching - a ballet danced in red

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