Here lies Conrad Gardner says the cold, grey stone.
Here lies the founder of the town.
The man that came from the south,
from the hills of Arkham.
The creator of the curse.
The beginner of the legend of Straw hill,
where the winds cry bitter sorrows.
Where the coast meets the sea
and tunnels lead to Devil's Reef.
Where the beautiful woman wonders naked
and awaits for her dark lover,
the Lurker at the Threshold,
the god that rules the souls
and who's gaze the guardians hold.
The many eyes of the night.


Princess of Vanity,
daughter of town royalty.
Queenie Stone has a dream,
to be queen,
to rule them all.
she doesn't care about charity,
she doesn't care about fame,
she wants power,
and with Miko, power she'll gain.
Along the guardian she walks,
through the road of Straw Hill,
side by side and headstrong,
like the madness which infest the town.
Towards the door of emptiness,
to the house of the Lurker.
Princess of Vanity,
human perhaps,
but her ambitions are monstrous.


Green eyes and black fur,
Miko is like the universe,
strange and alluring,
about to be taken.
The cat's gaze is the one of the gods,
that rule over Ulthar and Earth.
Visitor from foreign lands,
guardian of the door,
Miko is a vessel for the will of Ulthar,
son of Sothoth.
Along his human mistress,
he will take the souls where they belong,
to the abyss,
as it was set all along.


The idiot angel,
the young man with the broken spirit,
who's brain is harder,
that the rock this Adonis was carve from.
Bo is beau.
Son of the wondering maiden
and of the Opener of the Way,
he'll give his body and will,
to the virgin of may.
Mice, rabbits and birds,
fall all poor beasts,
under his bloody lips,
who's kisses then will cover,
Queenie's nymphetic breasts.
The man, the animal, the monster,
beautiful, dangerous, unworldly,
corruption from beyond the stars.


The door to nowhere,
stands on the hill of solitude,
looking over the doomed town.
The guardians are expecting the word,
the time that will come,
When the lurker' s son and his nubile queen,
will give life to the carrier of the word.
And when the word is given, they will reap
with fire, wrath, hammer and sword,
the rotten human fruit.
And under the silent eyes of the cats of Ulthar,
The straw will be broken.