Underlings
On pillars of the darkest stone
we sit and congregate,
ancient chants we loudly drone,
words of pain, songs of hate;
if silence falls we’ll lose the flame,
our spirits lost in abject shame.
We worship death, our Lady Fair,
for eons faithful acolytes,
without remorse we gladly scare
those who seek the endless night—
be wary when the last bell tolls,
we Ghoulies come to steal your souls!
The Ghoulie Chant
Do tread lightly when the final bell tolls,
dark tales told to frighten children are right—
we Ghoulies come creeping to steal your souls!
The beautiful light near-dead may extol
yet those truly lost know nothing but night,
do tread lightly when the final bell tolls.
Deep bowels of existence we patrol
in search of fools that cower from our sight—
we Ghoulies come creeping to steal your souls!
Lament at the abyss, blacker than coal,
your anguish provides us with grim delight,
do tread lightly when the final bell tolls.
Let us roughly devour your spirit whole,
sweet pain and tart fear whet our appetite—
we Ghoulies come creeping to steal your souls!
Once gone your fate you no longer control,
kneel down before us, overcome by fright.
Do tread lightly when the final bell tolls—
We Ghoulies come creeping to steal your souls!
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