He goes to the cemetery, dead of night
Spade and bag at his back, empty sight
He digs up soil of grave under moon
Deep in ground, can't see him inside the tomb
He lifts the lid of wooden coffin
Feeling smell of rotten flesh
Buried corpse not long ago, it begins decay
Searching values, l ooking at the corpse
He sees a golden ring
The precious stone shining in the night
Attracts the evil man
Trying to take it off from the finger of the corpse
Deadly frozen cold
Swollen from the pus hand of dead man
He can't take it off
He takes a knife, cuts the hand of the corpse
Crack of bones, tearing veins, clots of gore
Taking the hand of the corpse in his hand
Smile on face. Puts it down in his bag
He looks at the skull, opens the mouth with the knife
Ossified flesh can't stand for itself
Pulling out gold teeth, nothing can stop him
Verminous mouth full of white maggots
He takes in his hand the knife
And cuts the mouth of corpse
Maggots are falling down
From rotten flesh on dampy earth
He wants to leave the robbed grave
He stands on putrid corpse
His foot breaks rotten chest
And falls in intestines
Pungent stench of fetid goo
Splash of pus and broken bones
Clatches at the cold tombstone
Come out from the open grave
He goes to the cemetery, dead of night
Spade and bag at his back, empty sight
He digs up soil of grave under moon
Deep in ground, can't see him inside the tomb