The day begins in a very somber way
  The stench of the dead in the Manchester morgue
  The stench of sterilized deacay...
  The hideous signal...
  I open my eyes, livid with sweat
  Obnoxious film... but where have I been?
  Strapped to the table, burning fluids course within my veins
  Mortific eyes cannot dissuide that I see...
  My plight is realized, I am dead but I see...
  I feel the pain of the rush of formaldehype,
  The brittleness of my bones
  And they said I would never live again
  The buzzing in my brain
  The never ending pain
  The hunger I possess
  Within this rotten mess
  I break the straps and rise to feed
  The necrotic fluid bubbles, human viscera I need
  Corner the fightened doctors, they say this cannot be
  As I devour their pulsing flesh, their blood will comfort me

  My cohort rise from their crypts
  The morgue is in terror,
  blood rolls from our lips
  Some mangled bodies strewn in chaotic disarray
  Breakfast is served at the Manchester morgue
  The beginning of a horrifying day...
  No end in sight
  Our number multiply