Nativity Obscene - A Nursery Chyme 歌词
| 歌曲 | Nativity Obscene - A Nursery Chyme |
| 歌手 | Exhumed |
| 专辑 | Anatomy Is Destiny |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Matt | |
| Calcified infant is a breach birth debacle | |
| Natal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehyde-filled bottle | |
| Caesarean section reveals the ghastly tot | |
| An ossified infant, in its womb borne to rot | |
| Livid and stiff ere its first breath is claimed | |
| The rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimed | |
| Cold, dead and hard as it's exhumed from the womb | |
| The uterus its cradle, and its moist fetid tomb... | |
| Only scalpels left for playthings | |
| Swaddling clothes bloody but not from chafing | |
| Baptism by embalming solution | |
| As the trocar facilities the cold blood's dilution... | |
| Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceived | |
| Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrieved | |
| Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dry | |
| Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one dies | |
| Birth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her guts | |
| The morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cut | |
| Another tiny life that ended before it could begin | |
| Another piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin... | |
| Neither gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lips | |
| Placenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord rips | |
| Morbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little ears | |
| As the dry-eyed infant incites parents to bitter tears... | |
| Obstetric atrocity | |
| With a casket for a crib | |
| Nursery for an autopsy | |
| Body bag for a bib... | |
| Hush little baby, don't say a word | |
| Mama's going to have to get a casket reserved | |
| But if your body is too decomposed | |
| The coffin door will have to stay closed | |
| A babe in her arms | |
| Not safe from harm | |
| When the water breaks, the cradle will rot | |
| A nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and forgot... | |
| Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk | |
| Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother's milk | |
| Silent baby rattles stilled | |
| The doctor's gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled | |
| Morbid anatomy technicians are the child's only playmates | |
| Callously dissecting, the infantile inanimate | |
| A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one's tomb and trundle | |
| As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle... | |
| Dead before ever being alive to die | |
| Eyes closed forever ere the first tear could dry | |
| Mouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cry | |
| Dissected infant on the table, dead-cut and dry... | |
| Newborn fatality | |
| Whose playpen is a slab | |
| Lifeless nativity | |
| Diminutive toes to be tagged... | |
| Now I lay you down to sleep | |
| Your putrid flesh not long to keep | |
| If you should rot before you wake | |
| Then leave your corpse for the worms to take | |
| In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgue | |
| Sobs are heard from the maternity ward | |
| But from the mouth of babes, no sound escapes | |
| In this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes... |
| zuo qu : Matt | |
| Calcified infant is a breach birth debacle | |
| Natal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehydefilled bottle | |
| Caesarean section reveals the ghastly tot | |
| An ossified infant, in its womb borne to rot | |
| Livid and stiff ere its first breath is claimed | |
| The rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimed | |
| Cold, dead and hard as it' s exhumed from the womb | |
| The uterus its cradle, and its moist fetid tomb... | |
| Only scalpels left for playthings | |
| Swaddling clothes bloody but not from chafing | |
| Baptism by embalming solution | |
| As the trocar facilities the cold blood' s dilution... | |
| Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceived | |
| Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrieved | |
| Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dry | |
| Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one dies | |
| Birth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her guts | |
| The morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cut | |
| Another tiny life that ended before it could begin | |
| Another piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin... | |
| Neither gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lips | |
| Placenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord rips | |
| Morbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little ears | |
| As the dryeyed infant incites parents to bitter tears... | |
| Obstetric atrocity | |
| With a casket for a crib | |
| Nursery for an autopsy | |
| Body bag for a bib... | |
| Hush little baby, don' t say a word | |
| Mama' s going to have to get a casket reserved | |
| But if your body is too decomposed | |
| The coffin door will have to stay closed | |
| A babe in her arms | |
| Not safe from harm | |
| When the water breaks, the cradle will rot | |
| A nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and forgot... | |
| Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk | |
| Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother' s milk | |
| Silent baby rattles stilled | |
| The doctor' s gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled | |
| Morbid anatomy technicians are the child' s only playmates | |
| Callously dissecting, the infantile inanimate | |
| A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one' s tomb and trundle | |
| As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle... | |
| Dead before ever being alive to die | |
| Eyes closed forever ere the first tear could dry | |
| Mouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cry | |
| Dissected infant on the table, deadcut and dry... | |
| Newborn fatality | |
| Whose playpen is a slab | |
| Lifeless nativity | |
| Diminutive toes to be tagged... | |
| Now I lay you down to sleep | |
| Your putrid flesh not long to keep | |
| If you should rot before you wake | |
| Then leave your corpse for the worms to take | |
| In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgue | |
| Sobs are heard from the maternity ward | |
| But from the mouth of babes, no sound escapes | |
| In this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes... |
| zuò qǔ : Matt | |
| Calcified infant is a breach birth debacle | |
| Natal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehydefilled bottle | |
| Caesarean section reveals the ghastly tot | |
| An ossified infant, in its womb borne to rot | |
| Livid and stiff ere its first breath is claimed | |
| The rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimed | |
| Cold, dead and hard as it' s exhumed from the womb | |
| The uterus its cradle, and its moist fetid tomb... | |
| Only scalpels left for playthings | |
| Swaddling clothes bloody but not from chafing | |
| Baptism by embalming solution | |
| As the trocar facilities the cold blood' s dilution... | |
| Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceived | |
| Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrieved | |
| Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dry | |
| Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one dies | |
| Birth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her guts | |
| The morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cut | |
| Another tiny life that ended before it could begin | |
| Another piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin... | |
| Neither gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lips | |
| Placenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord rips | |
| Morbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little ears | |
| As the dryeyed infant incites parents to bitter tears... | |
| Obstetric atrocity | |
| With a casket for a crib | |
| Nursery for an autopsy | |
| Body bag for a bib... | |
| Hush little baby, don' t say a word | |
| Mama' s going to have to get a casket reserved | |
| But if your body is too decomposed | |
| The coffin door will have to stay closed | |
| A babe in her arms | |
| Not safe from harm | |
| When the water breaks, the cradle will rot | |
| A nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and forgot... | |
| Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk | |
| Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother' s milk | |
| Silent baby rattles stilled | |
| The doctor' s gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled | |
| Morbid anatomy technicians are the child' s only playmates | |
| Callously dissecting, the infantile inanimate | |
| A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one' s tomb and trundle | |
| As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle... | |
| Dead before ever being alive to die | |
| Eyes closed forever ere the first tear could dry | |
| Mouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cry | |
| Dissected infant on the table, deadcut and dry... | |
| Newborn fatality | |
| Whose playpen is a slab | |
| Lifeless nativity | |
| Diminutive toes to be tagged... | |
| Now I lay you down to sleep | |
| Your putrid flesh not long to keep | |
| If you should rot before you wake | |
| Then leave your corpse for the worms to take | |
| In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgue | |
| Sobs are heard from the maternity ward | |
| But from the mouth of babes, no sound escapes | |
| In this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes... |
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