The figure in black high on the mountain
Secluded away from the populus
Pale visage scouting future prey
He who is awake when there should be slumber
Coffin crawler
He who lives beyond its death
Succumbing to bestial instinct
Cannot be killed by mortal hands
The coffin crawler
Creeping in the dark
Barely seen seldom heard
As its prey is taken without notice
Bringer of plague
The night bringing terror
Descending on the town
And leaving none live
Beckoner of disease
Drinker of blood
The fanged beast upon the hill
In its coffin, it sleeps at day
Hunts at night
The howl of wolves signal its return
A swarm of bats fly in the sky
Razing the ground and populus
The band's debut is full of whiskey-burned growls and maniacal high shrieks, not surprising for a group of Detroit metal vets. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 22, 2016