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Slay Ride

Taken from the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society's "An Even Scarier Solstice", this is "Slay Ride," one of my favorite songs on either of the two albums. It's about Herbert West, obviously. I own nothing in this video and I gain nothing from posting it aside from the possible happiness I may receive by sharing things I enjoy with other people. Lyrics: Come on and bring your shovel, we're out for trouble and fright. We'll take all we can carry from the old cemetery tonight. In potter's field we'll disinter one dead person or two. We need the freshest body we can get; nothing shoddy will do. With a mind quite refined, but defined obsessed: that's young Herbert West. His studies into death are quite progressed. He needs flesh that is fresh in a special way, and shows no decay. He can't use a stiff with a whiff: to avoid it he'll even slay! M.U's most brilliant student is not so prudent at times. With loads of mad palaver he commits his cadaverous crimes. As he injects a potion to witness motion anew, You must admit it's terrific, Herbert's scientific breakthrough. There's a typhoid epidemic stalking Arkham-town. It has killed Dean Halsey, who's a doctor of renown. But Herb's chemical-agent swiftly sent his saintly soul to hell, While his mortal remains live in a padded cell. Well well well! It will cause the greatest horror this town ever saw, 'Cause the Dean will tear and eat the flesh from bodies raw. It'll look as grotesque as imagery by artist Sidney Sime. These terrible things are the things we'll remember all through our time. (From our laboratory in all it's glory we've fled. I still recall in dreams that awful night and the screams of undead. In potter's field we opened many graves always groping for breath, All in the name of science and in outright defiance of death.) Bodies ripped from the crypt, terror gripped my heart, but I did my part. I thought that Herbert West was really smart. And alas, not too fast, but at last I learned his victims returned. They came to avenge the syringe and he got the fate that he earned! The work was slow and sordid in a really morbid domain. Herb was a workaholic with a cold diabolical brain. To Herb, a human bein' was a mere machine made of meat. It only goes to show you that old death is a foe you can't cheat. It only goes to show you that old death is a foe you can't cheat!