I snatch the bodies of the dead
A resurrectionist, remunerated well
Rip the departed from their bed
They keep the maggots, the gold and flesh I sell
And reckoned I my reaping bounty
Four and twenty, they served my pocket well
But when I opened up the deepest
The devil lay there! Promising me hell!
(Chorus)
For every body you have stolen, a living mortal interred to their place
And now my prize is walking flesh
To be cadaver until my quota’s filled
Or else I’ll end up in perdition
The devil perched behind to reckon every kill
(Chorus)
For every body you have stolen, a living mortal interred to their place
Or might I throw you in the grave to live forever in putrefact’s embrace
Getting caught by Scotland Yard
I claw and beg from the confines of my cell
I never got to make my quota
And now I’m damned, waiting for my promised hell!
