“In the night they come, seeking wengeance. Nocturnal creatures bent on destruction, chaos, and wiolence. No matter how much wiolence and wengeance is wrought, they are never sated – they are always wery sad. Such is The Eternal Melancholy of the Wampyre. At least I think it is anyway, because at the risk of sounding like your mother when you showed her that cool new Carcass band with that Heartwork record you just downloaded from Limewire back when you were a teenager, I can’t understand a word of what’s being sung here; it just sounds like wordless screaming. That’s no matter though, as Wampyric Rites aren’t really about the lyrics in my estimation.” I’d gladly pay you Tuesday for a wampyre today.
