Come to the place where we bury strangers.
We hang them up to dry til' their rotten,
turned mad, and all sides of themselves forgotten;
then we drink their blood, despite the dangers.
Then, and only then do we sing them to sleep:
such disharmony blaring down their ears on repeat.
The will to give up soon starts to creep,
and we listen for the last breath and the last heart beat.

Come to the place where we bury strangers-
I know that your at least little tempted.
But many have failed when they have attempted
to hold on to their heads in these chambers.
We can and we will sing you sickly to sleep:
such disharmony blaring down your ears on repeat.
The will to give up soon starts to creep,
and we listen for your last breath and your last heart beat.

We were crazy before you could catch it.
We walk in green mazes with boxes of matches.
We bury bodies and we've buried a few hatchets.
We were crazy before you could catch it.

So come to the place where we like to go.
I think you'll find us to be easy in nature.  
We do not pass judgement on any creature,
nor do we kick someone when their down and low.
We just drink a little blood and bury a few strangers.