[male bass]
Somewhere in a dreadful world, amidst the bogs and mire,
There lies a hidden passage, unseen, beneath the muck and mire.
It leads down to the darkness, to an ancient, awful king,
Who dwells in rotting shadows, where mad whispers cling.
An - cient King! Ma - licious King!
His throne is made of clay and filth, his scepter—rotted wood.
He wants to gorge on half the world and feast on flesh and blood!
An - cient King! Ma - licious King!
Through labyrinthine tunnels drift the remnants of dread dreams,
Hunting for the wild ones, the dead with ghastly screams.
Who dares to tread the marshes, who drowns within the fen,
Shall be enchanted, captive there, and never leave again!
An - cient King! Sha - dow King!
Don’t wander near the swamplands, don’t seek the hidden trail!
You’ll find no peace within the ghostly, fevered wail.
You’ll be enchanted, bound in thrall, a slave until your doom,
Dwelling close to wickedness, within its endless gloom.
An - cient King! Om - nipotent King!
He’s waiting in the abyss for prey—no turning back.
If you should hear a whispering, then seal your eyes in black!
An - cient King! Ter - rible King!
An - cient King! Om - nipotent King!
An - cient King! Sha - dow King!
An - cient King! Ma - licious King!
