Текст: Most Precious Blood. Graveyard Postcards.

The horde from the opened earth swarm to devour.
Swallow me whole, no final hour.
When you call for me and I'm not to be found,
check the hiding places then check underground.
Spitting out one thing to swallow another,
it's no wonder why the urge returns like hunger.
When you search for me and I'm nowhere around,
don't waste your time looking. I'm underground.
Making allies of hardship and grief,
here I lie silent beneath.
With my knives I'm armed to the teeth,
gone hunting for the thief.
I'm sending graveyard postcards which tell of your fear,
when turned over read: "Wish you were here."