Vampire - Rigor Mortis

Black is the night full is the moon

Picking the flesh from my teeth

The thick fog rises midnight is soon

Prowling the streets stalking for meat as the necrophiliac

You cannot hide because I will find you

And you will rot

Approaching my victim I make my advance

My eyes have her entranced

With hands cold as death and skin white as bone

Fangs are injected draining her blood the whore lies in pain

With ripped out tendons and the marks of hell

She will rot

The thick fog is rising up to the moon

The coffin opens

I am the one who rises from the grave

To drink the blood of the living

Feeding the maggots leftover flesh