lirik lagu the grave robber’s work – the black dahlia murder
“the grave robber’s work”
ritual of desecration
the grave robber’s work is never done,
it’s up all night and sleep all day,
the hours are sh-t with h-ll to pay.
pockets are br-mm-ng 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, deny, 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-cks.
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-st from the deadman’s bank and trust,
to the depths of h-ll 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-rd.
will you follow me into the dark?
will you follow me into the dark?
[solo]
i rob the dead for what they’re worth,
jewels, wealth, clothing, s-x.
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-st from the deadman’s bank and trust,
to the depths of h-ll or bust.
i’m 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
may the gods have mercy.