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Effervescing entrails corroding after years |
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The stench of the canker brings me no tears |
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Festering tumours of cancerous decay |
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Gnawed and chewed by maggots with malicious hate |
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I like to slide my hand inside your stomach |
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And rip out the putrid remains, |
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Drink the pus and munch on the internal organs |
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Until all the casket is drained. |
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It's fun being a pathologist - slicing up corpses |
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Especially when they have just been exhumed, |
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I like doing autopsies on festering carcasses - |
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I get high sniffing on all the fumes |
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The sound of rancid juices sloshing around your coffin |
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The mould and the gore remind me of that you're rotting |
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Congealed blood clotted around both sets of veins |
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The beautiful colour of your decomposing brain |
