Inpropagation 歌词
| 歌曲 | Inpropagation |
| 歌手 | Carcass |
| 专辑 | Necroticism - Descanting the Insalubrious |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Owen, Steer, Walker | |
| (Music: Owen, Steer) | |
| (Lyrics: Walker) | |
| Insipid fumes bellow from the atrabilious chimney | |
| Whilst in the sanctified crevet I calmly pillage and rake | |
| For hot dry powdered human slag | |
| Still steaming in the crematorium's grate | |
| Bio-organic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates | |
| For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate | |
| Your mortal mechanism dies - in nutrients rich | |
| In the hallowed turf you lie - just for the taking | |
| Charred sinew's as good as lime, no phosphates do I need | |
| Deteriorated flesh used as top-soil, to replenish and nourish seed | |
| Spreading this human potash, as ash matured | |
| Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead...for use as manure... | |
| Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed | |
| And there's no rest for the dead | |
| (Lead fills: Dust in the mausoleum by W.G. Steer) | |
| Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns | |
| Every morsel that glows like ember on the fire | |
| Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch | |
| These charred chassis desired | |
| Exequiet rites now performed, a coronach sooting up the flu | |
| Enter my execrable inferno, even in the after-life there's work to do | |
| The nitrogen content's high - but the flesh is weak | |
| At the graveside mourners cry - you're never to wake again | |
| (Lead: Compost humous horticulture by M. Amott) | |
| Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed | |
| Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plant-feed | |
| Ploughing this abhorrent human manure | |
| Seedling my rich harvest, bring out your dead...for the soils to devour... | |
| Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed | |
| And there's still no rest for the dead | |
| (Lead: Humanure by W.G. Steer) | |
| I propagate - dust in the grate | |
| Ashes to ashes - dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops | |
| Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture with active fertile rot | |
| Incumbent - latent calories are spent | |
| Ashes to ashes - dust to dust renewing the land with corpses corrupt | |
| Mortuary scrapings, hearses a must, to the hot hearth the deceased are trussed | |
| Harvesting the defouled, to fertilise my soil | |
| Rejuvenating the spent with my fecundate spoils... | |
| Reaping the gone, to nourish the land | |
| Replenishing exhausted pasture with my uncanny sleight of hand | |
| Restoring the unnatural balance, sowing my seed | |
| Defalcating the departed, I rapt and glean... | |
| So I recite my contrite lament, lacrimation for the dead | |
| Their rest which I disturb... | |
| Where should stand row upon row of cold grey remembrance stones | |
| My cash crops now grow... |
| zuo ci : Owen, Steer, Walker | |
| Music: Owen, Steer | |
| Lyrics: Walker | |
| Insipid fumes bellow from the atrabilious chimney | |
| Whilst in the sanctified crevet I calmly pillage and rake | |
| For hot dry powdered human slag | |
| Still steaming in the crematorium' s grate | |
| Bioorganic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates | |
| For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate | |
| Your mortal mechanism dies in nutrients rich | |
| In the hallowed turf you lie just for the taking | |
| Charred sinew' s as good as lime, no phosphates do I need | |
| Deteriorated flesh used as topsoil, to replenish and nourish seed | |
| Spreading this human potash, as ash matured | |
| Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead... for use as manure... | |
| Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed | |
| And there' s no rest for the dead | |
| Lead fills: Dust in the mausoleum by W. G. Steer | |
| Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns | |
| Every morsel that glows like ember on the fire | |
| Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch | |
| These charred chassis desired | |
| Exequiet rites now performed, a coronach sooting up the flu | |
| Enter my execrable inferno, even in the afterlife there' s work to do | |
| The nitrogen content' s high but the flesh is weak | |
| At the graveside mourners cry you' re never to wake again | |
| Lead: Compost humous horticulture by M. Amott | |
| Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed | |
| Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plantfeed | |
| Ploughing this abhorrent human manure | |
| Seedling my rich harvest, bring out your dead... for the soils to devour... | |
| Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed | |
| And there' s still no rest for the dead | |
| Lead: Humanure by W. G. Steer | |
| I propagate dust in the grate | |
| Ashes to ashes dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops | |
| Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture with active fertile rot | |
| Incumbent latent calories are spent | |
| Ashes to ashes dust to dust renewing the land with corpses corrupt | |
| Mortuary scrapings, hearses a must, to the hot hearth the deceased are trussed | |
| Harvesting the defouled, to fertilise my soil | |
| Rejuvenating the spent with my fecundate spoils... | |
| Reaping the gone, to nourish the land | |
| Replenishing exhausted pasture with my uncanny sleight of hand | |
| Restoring the unnatural balance, sowing my seed | |
| Defalcating the departed, I rapt and glean... | |
| So I recite my contrite lament, lacrimation for the dead | |
| Their rest which I disturb... | |
| Where should stand row upon row of cold grey remembrance stones | |
| My cash crops now grow... |
| zuò cí : Owen, Steer, Walker | |
| Music: Owen, Steer | |
| Lyrics: Walker | |
| Insipid fumes bellow from the atrabilious chimney | |
| Whilst in the sanctified crevet I calmly pillage and rake | |
| For hot dry powdered human slag | |
| Still steaming in the crematorium' s grate | |
| Bioorganic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates | |
| For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate | |
| Your mortal mechanism dies in nutrients rich | |
| In the hallowed turf you lie just for the taking | |
| Charred sinew' s as good as lime, no phosphates do I need | |
| Deteriorated flesh used as topsoil, to replenish and nourish seed | |
| Spreading this human potash, as ash matured | |
| Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead... for use as manure... | |
| Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed | |
| And there' s no rest for the dead | |
| Lead fills: Dust in the mausoleum by W. G. Steer | |
| Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns | |
| Every morsel that glows like ember on the fire | |
| Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch | |
| These charred chassis desired | |
| Exequiet rites now performed, a coronach sooting up the flu | |
| Enter my execrable inferno, even in the afterlife there' s work to do | |
| The nitrogen content' s high but the flesh is weak | |
| At the graveside mourners cry you' re never to wake again | |
| Lead: Compost humous horticulture by M. Amott | |
| Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed | |
| Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plantfeed | |
| Ploughing this abhorrent human manure | |
| Seedling my rich harvest, bring out your dead... for the soils to devour... | |
| Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed | |
| And there' s still no rest for the dead | |
| Lead: Humanure by W. G. Steer | |
| I propagate dust in the grate | |
| Ashes to ashes dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops | |
| Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture with active fertile rot | |
| Incumbent latent calories are spent | |
| Ashes to ashes dust to dust renewing the land with corpses corrupt | |
| Mortuary scrapings, hearses a must, to the hot hearth the deceased are trussed | |
| Harvesting the defouled, to fertilise my soil | |
| Rejuvenating the spent with my fecundate spoils... | |
| Reaping the gone, to nourish the land | |
| Replenishing exhausted pasture with my uncanny sleight of hand | |
| Restoring the unnatural balance, sowing my seed | |
| Defalcating the departed, I rapt and glean... | |
| So I recite my contrite lament, lacrimation for the dead | |
| Their rest which I disturb... | |
| Where should stand row upon row of cold grey remembrance stones | |
| My cash crops now grow... |
| [00:15.00] | “一具遗体被送往公共太平间。 |
| [00:18.22] | 任何突然或意外死亡的受害者会被病理学家带到这里进行尸检； |
| [00:24.45] | 他们的工作是确定死因。但有时尸体是无法辨认的。 |
| [00:30.98] | 那么，确立身份就至关重要了，尤其是在怀疑是谋杀的情况下……” |
| [01:00.93] | 清淡的烟，从巨大的烟囱里冒出来 |
| [01:04.15] | 而在这神圣的熔炉中，我正平静地掠夺搜刮 |
| [01:07.34] | 那些干热粉碎的人体炉渣 |
| [01:10.80] | 还在火葬场的壁炉里冒着热气 |
| [01:13.21] | 生物有机沸腾，骨焦油，油脂脱水物 |
| [01:19.12] | 为我的毒害园艺精心栽培 |
| [01:32.02] | 你的身体机能已死——满是营养 |
| [01:41.35] | 你躺在神圣的草地上——供人取用 |
| [01:45.14] | 烧焦的筋肉和石灰一样，我不需要用磷酸盐 |
| [01:49.44] | 腐坏的肉体用作表土，滋养培育我的种子 |
| [01:53.96] | 当骨灰成熟之时，要撒上人体钾肥 |
| [01:58.15] | 回收利用我的大丰收，你的死亡...是我的肥料... |
| [02:12.39] | 浇灌的泪水已经流尽，这土地仍需耕耘 |
| [02:25.73] | 倾倒打扫盒里洒出的骨灰 |
| [02:29.45] | 每一份都像火中余烬 |
| [02:33.07] | 扑灭了所有死后升天的希望 |
| [02:36.38] | 这些烧焦的炉架渴望着 |
| [02:38.77] | 葬礼仪式正在举行，挽歌激增了流感 |
| [02:45.58] | 进入我可憎的地狱，即使在死后也有工作要做 |
| [02:58.74] | 含氮量很高——但肉体很瘦弱 |
| [03:08.33] | 墓旁的哀悼者在哭泣——而你永远不会醒来 |
| [03:17.52] | 永远不会醒来 |
| [03:29.88] | 烧焦的胸肉让土地重生，让我的种子发芽 |
| [03:34.08] | 火化的尸体是我的战利品，用来做植物的饲料 |
| [03:38.50] | 用那可憎的人粪犁地 |
| [03:42.90] | 播种我的大丰收，你的死亡…让土壤去吞噬… |
| [03:57.26] | 流干死者的血，因土壤需要施肥 |
| [04:01.45] | 死者仍然不会得到安息 |
| [04:08.17] | 死者不得安息 |
| [04:35.32] | 我传播——炉膛里的灰尘 |
| [04:46.17] | 尘归尘，土归土——在水中稀释，喷洒作物 |
| [04:52.85] | 炭、脂肪、肉和煤烟肥沃了我富饶的牧场 |
| [05:16.76] | 领取圣奉——消耗潜在的热量 |
| [05:27.39] | 尘归尘，土归土——腐烂的尸首让土地重获新生 |
| [05:34.01] | 停尸房的刮蹭，灵车的潮气，捆着死者去往熔炉 |
| [05:55.48] | 收割腐烂的肉体，使我的土地肥沃 |
| [05:58.66] | 用我丰饶的战利品来消磨时光... |
| [06:16.64] | 收割死者，滋养大地 |
| [06:20.03] | 用我那离奇的招数使枯竭的牧场恢复生机 |
| [06:23.24] | 恢复非自然平衡，播种我的种子 |
| [06:26.61] | 玷污死者，我发疯地搜寻… |
| [06:30.49] | 所以我默念我悔悟的哀歌，哀悼死者 |
| [06:36.73] | 我打扰了他们的长眠… |
| [06:41.12] | 一排排灰白冰冷纪念碑应该立于何处 |
| [06:47.76] | 我的经济作物生生不息… |
YouTube搜索结果 (转至YouTube)