Black Funeral - Ankou And The Death Fire

At dusk, the gates of the netherworld can be opened
The Ankou takes shape
Tall and gaunt casting shadow
Let the wizened skin bring the stench of death
Ankou, swathed in a ragged shroud
Ankou nigh stalker
Smell the air for the living
Your cart creeks slowly by
Eyes lit with a phantom flame, Ankou the death bringer
Sharpen my scythe on human bones
Plague and dysentery my companions beside me
A appear by the ghostly death fire, won't you come with me?