(Hunt or be hunted)
  
   The days are hot
   and the dead lie unburied on the field
   So the wind brings the smell of blood;
   - so heavy and sweet
  
   They're back again
   - we came so near and yet so far
   They're all around
   and if they come any closer...
   We're done
  
   Keep My Grave Open, open wide
   Keep My Grave Open, I'm longing to die
   - Cool and peaceful, and far from the battlefields
   ...and opened just for me
  
   The moon shuts her eyes
   and great black clouds cover the sky
   Rain bathes the ground
   while we live in darkness like the blind..