Abscess

Tomb Of The Unknown Junkie

Build it for the ones who disappear

Vanish without a trace

For those who fall down

Crushed in the race

Build it wide and low to the ground

Paint it black

Freeze the core so cold surrounds

Where all is black

In the tomb of the unknown junkie

Display the corpse unembalmed

Stench of death in the air

Dress them in their finest clothes

And brush their hair

When the flesh rots away

They'll join the wall of bones

A fresh corpse will soon be here

To call this place home