Grinning Like an Undertaker Lyrics & Tracklist by The Accüsed

POUNDING NAILS (Into the Lid of your Coffin) Music: Sinder, Sibbald, Niemeyer Lyrics: Cook A heavy rain is pouring down Upon the mourners gathered at your grave Heads bowed in deadly silence As the priest recites your eulogy Pounding nails into the lid of your coffin... Pound Casket slowly lowered into the ground Another body consigned to the grave Interned in your final resting place Launched into eternity Pounding nails into the lid of your coffin... Pound A bright light leads you to heaven Your soul cursed to eternal damnation Your spirit set free now wanders Your body buried rots in the ground

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

In 1989 in New York city alone 140 youths under the age of 18 Were gunned down Gunned down Bullet ridden bodies The streets are the new battle fields Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing The streets are the new battle fields Littered with bullet ridden bodies And families mourning their dead. 14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine You ripped off the wrong people Now you've got the sights of the 9mm Aimed at the back, back of your head. The first shot fired pierces his skull As eight more shots are pumped into his body As he crumples into the new fallen snow. 14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine You crossed the wrong people Now you've got the sights of the 9mm Aimed at the back, back of your head. The blood, his blood, drips from the snow Into the slush-filled streets. A crowd starts to gather A young girl begins to scream BOGOTA, COLUMBIA 50 bodies float down a raging river Hands cut off at the wrist Headless and bloated from weeks In the tropical water. The streets are the new battle fields Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing The streets are the new battle fields An families mourning their dead.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

THE CORPSE WALKS Music: Sibbald, Niemeyer Lyrics: Cook Alive among the lifeless How many of us still survive ? Stranded in this hell Cursed by the walking dead There’s not much time left now The sun has already begun to set Time to board up (the) windows and doors It’ll be dark in half an hour Rising from forgotten graves The dead returning to life The corpse walks Never to be killed again Bon(e)y fingers covered in moldy flesh It’s got you by the neck A look of hunger in dead eyes Broken teeth sink into your throat Too late, you saw it too late Your flesh a feast for fiends The body scattered on the ground Blood soaked into gravelly earth The streets are now empty I watch the dead (as they) begin to feed

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

You're the filthy creature Crouched in the shadows Of a street light Hunched over your catch Shit, she's barely alive Blood dried up and caked in her hair Her face just a bloody mess Just when you think you're gonna Finish the job Martha comes along Just to set things straight. Gaping mouth Full of razor-sharp teeth All seeing eyes She's staring you down. She shatters your skull In her vice-like grip She tears your head off Your victim gets sick Lucky for you she wasn't dead You just lost your head Your brains oozing out From between her fingers Your blood wets her lips. Grinning like an undertaker Ready to dress a corpse Grinning like an undertaker Ready to dress a corpse

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

On doorsteps and in alleyways I see these fools passed out At any time of the day Crashed out in a bed of piss Empty bottle cradled in their arms. So tell me Who's job is it to tend these few people? Back to self-sufficiency and respect I turn my head it puts chills in my heart If I give you some change to clear my mind Would I have played my part? There's a man who has a dream But never seems to make it 'Cause everytime he gets some, someone tries to take it. A second chance at life, no one will give him In an alley way is where he's livin' You see him there you walk by laughing and smirking Thinking to yourself it's only his fault, he ain't working. That might be true but it's only half the story so Kick back while we tell you his story. He came back from the war a veteran The only thing he learned to do was kill and shoot a gun. That comes in handy when you're fighting a war But when you came back to society you need much more. So all he had was terror in his mind No job skills so a job he couldn't find. The only thing he had was memories Of his friends being killed and crying and dying babies. So he grabbled bottle for an escape From all the mental torment that the war had made. Now you're calling him a bum 'cause he can't get none While you're sitting at home not willing to get some. Sharing and caring is what he needs now Some support for his marals, some help for his ego. So he can go to the top where every man can And all he really needs is a helping hand. So tell me Who's job is it to tend these few people? Back to self-sufficiency and respect I turn my head it puts chills in my heart If I give you some change to clear my mind Would I have played my part? Cold dark and lonely Broken and abused Homeless hungry and hated orgotten Only remembered on the streets And they're down, down and out.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

DROPPING LIKE FLIES Music: Sibbald Lyrics: Cook You got this habit you just can’t shake There’s not much more your body can take So you jab that needle in your vein Another load of dirt for your brain Scars and scars up and down your arms Your body covered in a sheet of sweat You made the choice To drag out your life In a dull drugged oblivion Eyes wide open lips blue with death Your lifeless body slumped over in a chair No show at your funeral No flowers on your grave Dropping like flies

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

(Instrumental) Music: Niemeyer, Sibbald (?)

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

When I was a child I spent hours in the back of a Dark Greyhound bus. When I was a child I heard ma father curse the witch The neighborhood punchboard. I squeezed my eyes shut really tight Whenever I drove by the cemetery at night But during the day I drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes In the same cemetery that scared the shit out of me at night. When I was a child Afraid to go in the basement Scared of what was hiding in the dark. When I was a child I had a father Who never knew me or saw me grow up.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

Standing on a corner In the middle of the night His schizophrenic face Shrouded in the smoke Rising from the sewers Beneath the streets Cracked lips surrouded teeth Yellow and decayed. His schizophrenic face Shrouded in the thin haze Of hot breath wheezing from Dying lungs Greasy hair covers Wild blood-shot eyes Dirty toes poke through The ends of weathered Combat boots. Somewhere in this city An old man's all alone Standing on a corner In the middle of the night. Reaching in the pocket Of his battered overcoat Skeletal hand crucified by arthritis Clench a half-filled bottle of Fortified wine A stream of drool Runs from the corner of his mouth. Somewhere in this city An old man's all alone Standing on a corner In the middle of the night.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

VOICES Music: Niemeyer, Sibbald Lyrics: Cook, Sibbald Voices, do you, do you Ever hear voices ? Do you ever hear voices From the dark recesses of your mind ? Voices, do you, do you Ever hear voices ? Do you ever hear voices Gnawing pain, driving you slowly mad ? They’re always different They never sound the same The dark side is beckoning me back again The phone won’t stop ringing Causing me endless agony These voices in my head are always taunting me I’m in my room They’ve got me locked away Nothing outside could fill all these days I’m Jimi Hendrix I’m Elvis the King I know the federal government is watching me Voices, do you Do you ever hear voices ? Do you ever hear voices From the dark recesses of your mind ? Voices, do you, do you Ever hear voices ? Do you ever hear voices Gnawing pain, driving you slowly mad ? My life has been taken over By a part of my mind Sanity has never been so far away Reality and nightmare Melt into one This constant ringing/screaming in my head won’t leave me alone Curled up on the floor Four walls and a bed Me, myself and the voices in my head Curled up on the floor Four walls and a bed Me, myself and the voices in my head Curled up on the floor Four walls and a bed Me, myself and the voices in my head Curled up on the floor Four walls and a bed Me, myself and the voices in my head

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

BORIS THE SPIDER (John Entwistle) Originally recorded by The Who at Pye Studios, London in October 1966 Look, he’s crawling up my wall Black and hairy, very small Now he’s up above my head Hanging by a little thread Boris the spider Boris the spider Now he’s dropped on to the floor Heading for the bedroom door Maybe he’s as scared as me Where’s he gone now, I can’t see Boris the spider Boris the spider Creepy, crawly Creepy, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly There he is wrapped in a ball Doesn’t seem to move at all Perhaps he’s dead, I’ll just make sure Pick this book up off the floor Boris the spider Boris the spider Creepy, crawly Creepy, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly He’s come to a sticky end Don’t think he will ever mend Never more will he crawl ‘round He’s embedded in the ground Boris the spider Boris the spider

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

TAPPING THE VEIN Music: Niemeyer, Sibbald Lyrics: Cook You say you’re living an empty life Your days filled with nothing but misery and strife Nobody to call your own as you’re slowly wasting away In this rat-infested hole that you call home Tapping, tapping, tapping the vein Rusty razor blade slices deep Blood spurting From the gashes in your wrists Rats are crawling out From the cracks in the walls Rats are crawling down Crawling down your arms Lapping up your blood While it’s still warm

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

Grinning Like an Undertaker

1 - Pounding Nails (Into the Lid of Your Coffin)

2 - Bullet-Ridden Bodies

3 - The Corpse Walks

4 - Grinning (Like an Undertaker)

5 - Down & Out

6 - Cut & Dried

7 - Dropping Like Flies

8 - M Is for Martha

9 - Room 144 (instrumental)

10 - When I Was a Child

11 - The Night

12 - Voices

13 - Boris the Spider

14 - Tapping the Vein