Anatomy Is Destiny / Live in Japan, by Exhumed (2024)

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[no lyrics]

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In my waxen world, time stands stillForever frozen like flies trapped in amberOne perfect moment preserved, just ere the killGruesome atrocities transfixed in horror's chamberPoetry without motion, figures stranded midstreamWaxen players in this dark drama of the macabreMouths agape with terror but breathless to screamNo death rattle heard, nor parting sors...I am preserver of life through my morbid artFor each mannequin was truly alive from the startSo if the eyes seem to follow your gaze as you gawkKnow that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you walk...Cadavers molded in wax as their lives buried awayMore preening puppets to perform in the scenes that I playFeatures cast in the moment of dying preservedHow they screamed as they met with their fates well deserved...WAXWORKRecreating the horror of the moment of deathMy models serve their purpose quite wellEmbalm their bodies in wax, capture their dying breathDrain the fluids to stave off the smellLike dolls that dance to their own funeral dirgeThey play out their death scenes interminablyAs prized their exhibits in my dark reserveThey unfold their secrets only to meLife eternal in wax was their death's decreeSuffering for my art, they surrendered to meSo when their eyes lock with your gazeLook unflinchingly at death or turn away fast...Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed awayAnother preserved puppet to prance on the strings that I playThe fear ensnared in their captive countenances I've trappedMummified and memorialised in wax well-woven and wrapped...WAXWORK[Lead - Matt]So sit still in your place at the end of the bladeBy my design, death's hand find you just out of reachAnother player in this deathly silent world that I have madeDevoid of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speechAwaiting a terminus that never will comeYou're a marionette bound by my stringsTrussed in this tomb of wax, your time here is not doneFor time does not quite end all things...This is my life's work, this still, silent placeA monument to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen faceTake care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you doWhen you look deep into death, it sees back into you too...Flesh bubbled and scalded, as this molten bath washed life awayWax covered my still-screaming preyAnother piece for my prizing, recast in my moldFeatures harden and set as the wax grows stiff and cold...WAXWORK

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Pernicious - A ghastly Gordian quandary to elucidatePestiferous - A nebulous necrotic novelty to navigateLabyrinthine - A contumely carnal conundrum to cogitateSerpentine - An exulcerated entanglement to execrate...Hands stained and filthy from digging deep for the answerThat lies at the heart of the matter of splatter...Eschatological - The grave matters with which we strugglePathological - The perverse perpetuation of this purulent puzzleRepugnant - The wretched riddle unravels in a reeking revelationRepulsive - The final fetid farce yields such a rancid realizationNow your morbid curiosity may finally be answeredDeep in the heart of the matter of splatter...A morbid matter on which to meditate or mutilateA deathly detail to deliberate and desiccateA sombre study in which sagacity is tantamount to insanityAn insalubrious interest in the inhumed and the unsanitary...An unhealthy pursuit of the purulent and parturientA feculent fixation upon the fetid filth and excrementAn exhaustive examination of the excreted and the exhumedA tireless appetite to hill the silt atop the tomb...[Lead - Mike]Nebulous - The sanguineous solution is seldom seen before the lastAmorphous - Seemingly always six deep feet beyond your graspFunereal - Carnal cartography to chart the course of life's denouementCorporeal - The wretched revelation that you sought proves harder to swallow than you'd thought...That anatomy is destiny is the unforgiving answerCulled from the heart of the matter of splatter...

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Scalpels cleave and reave though crimson rivuletsWeaving their cold and malignant minuetsCarving out funereal figures in arcane alphabetsScars that will never heal or forget...Like puzzle pieces, set askew, you've come undoneThe bleeding is ceaseless, you're turning blue, the end had begunSet down in writing, flesh, blood and bone, let death be doneThe pen is as mighty as the sword, sticks or stones, your end would be cast in stone, by either one...[Lead - Mike]Tenderly thanatographical threads are tread and tracedBoiling blood will serve to warm this cold clinical embraceA clean precise cut to mark this morbid meeting placeThis knife - point where you and death came face to face...The slab starts to spin around and around, as I take your hand in mineWe move step by step within, without so much as a sound, death's dark design in timeA slice to the left, then cut back to the right, movements scripted in this dance of the deadMotions so deft, recalled by touch not by sight, footprints encrypted by blood running red...A pirouette on razor's edge leaves you breathlessThe slab plays host to an incisive macabre balletA savage, slicing slaughter of the sensesNow splayed...UNDER THE KNIFE - your death hangs in the balance, on the edge of the bladeREMEMBER EVERY SLICE - of this jigsawed demise, and every part that I payedCOLD STEEL BURNS LIKE ICE - leaves you dancing on nothing, loosed by unsteady handsUNDER THE KNIFE - The caress of steel, just before the end...Just before the end...[Lead - Matt]A bleeding patchwork design, in running scarlet writConnected wounds intersecting from slit to bloody slitSuch a tangled web of shreds and scars I've knitThe liquid of life, leaks out through the red at your wrists...May I have this last dance? As I take your last breathWith a final flick of my wrist...UNDER THE KNIFE - your death hangs in the balance, on the edge of the bladeREMEMBER EVERY SLICE - of this jigsawed demise, and every part that I payedCOLD STEEL BURNS LIKE ICE - leaves you dancing on nothing, loosed by unsteady handsUNDER THE KNIFE - The caress of steel, just before the end...

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Your dry throat creaks without a saliva to sputterAs your pulpy dehydrated tongue soundlessly threshesDays without sustenance spent shackled and fetteredEmaciated torso aches for the warm taste of flesh...I will make a meal of you, your hunger I'll sateSaw off your leg at the knee to put on your dinner plateTry not to wince at the pain that you feelAs I mince up your calf to prepare your next meal...Cauterise the gargled wound to stave off the haemorrhageYou should savor the thought of your repastChoke down this bitter meal in spite of your revulsionThough how long can your source of food last?Keeping yourself alive as you're force-fed your own fleshIf you don't eat up, you're truly dead meatLegs turned to stumps, bloody drinks gargled in clumpsIn this case you really are what you eat...AUTOPHAGOUS GLUTTONYCULINARY PATHOLOGYDIETARY BUTCHERYCONSUMING IMPULSEIngest your corpse to be...Quadriplegic you feed as your dinner is servedWaste not ; want not, though there's not much to conserveSevered and severely served upon a platter of splatterAfter a while the source of the sustenance barely even matters...Now a half-eaten torso gorged to the glutPiece by piece you are fed the chicest cutsAs the dinner-bell rings your bloody chops are feverishly lickedAt the sight of your own roasted fat turned and browned on a spit...Your own meat in your mouth tastes bitter and internecineNoxious and moist, you get a taste of your own medicineGnashing, pieces of your limbs with delightDigesting your death with each grotesque bloody biteWhat's eating you? The question seems to mootScraping chunks of your feet out of your blood-soaked sopping bootBash open bones picked clean to suckle at the marrowAs your culinary milieu of options inexorably narrows...AUTOPHAGOUS GLUTTONYCULINARY PATHOLOGYDIETARY BUTCHERYCONSUMING IMPULSEIngest your corpse to be...Feeding time comes again, the thorax falls victim to this slaughterBlood, pus and sebum replace wine, whiskey and waterSometimes survival will cost you an arm and a legYour spittle running, red with bits of reeking bloody dregs...[Lead - Mike]Masticate your own genitals, choke on your bludgeoned testicl*sWith a hunger that will not be deniedThe sweetest of meats is your soft, fatty teatsThat I'll be stuffing your face with tonightPuking up your own skin, just to devour it againIs a treat you'll save for dessertFresh meat for your lunch, fibula cracked, drained and crunchedAs your overstuffed gullet gasps and blurts...Your crudely resected anatomy is a wretched grisly sightBut your stumps once arms just whet your appetiteNibbling at the sinews of your bloody forearms and wristsRavenously devouring your shredded survival in fleshly chunks and meaty bits...Eviscerate yourself to gnaw at your own intestinesBones from severed fingers facilitate this haphazard self-dissectionClutch at grume inside your bowels with half-eaten grubby stumpsPulling out the repugnant meal in grotesque tumescent clumps...Remaining fingers prying off your succulent gouged out gumsGnaw at your stringy cheek lining and masticate your insatiable tongueBut the pieces you ingest in carnivorous abandonFall out of the gaping that you have torn in your intestinesGnash the meat from your avulsed face in a frenzied rushNo genitals, no feet, no legs, no appendage left uncrushedHalf-eaten tongue oozes spittle down your face - your hunger undiminishedOnly when your partially devoured innards prolapse will this meal at last be finishedAUTOPHAGOUS GLUTTONYCULINARY PATHOLOGYDIETARY BUTCHERYCONSUMING IMPULSEExcrete your corpse to be...

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All the world's indeed a corpse, and we are merely maggotsDead on arrival is our only course, and if the toe fits, tag itSycophants, we're writhing blind, feeding off each others' regurgitationDisgorging whatever waste we find, breeding our degradation with each exhalation...Lambs to the slaughterFeast of fools upon the fodderNo trompe l'oreil to beholdJust a wretched drama to unfold...Gnarled within this mortal coilWithin which the voracious feebly toilEnamored of our own diseaseWe revel in our own grotesqueries...Dissecting ourselves to find nothing aliveJust a mass of perversely animated piecesNothing within worthwhile to reviveWe're mired knee-deep in our own fetid fecesGorging our gnawing jaws with our own pathological wasteLike grubs wriggling in the rank feast of decayWe grind our own bones into dust each futile step we takeAs we inch unseeing through day after day...Consumer or consumedWe all end up as chyme and grumeUpon the fetid mass we chokeLeaving us in no position to appreciate the sick joke...Twisted through this mortal coilNow our unctuous desserts are brought to a boilSomewhere between the living and the deceasedWe gag on the feast of our grotesqueries...[Lead - Mike]Too consumed by consumption to see our own endsWe're all dead and only getting deaderDigging our own graves into which we gladly descendIn this cold coil we're shackled and fetteredAs we ingest each others' waste, in a frenzied feeding rushLeaving everything sick and dead in our wakeDevouring each other in ravening, unheeding crushAs we gorge ourselves on all the tripe and offal we can intake...Crass menagerieEschatological estuaryWe create each others' atrocitiesIn this grotesqueryAsphyxiated by this mortal coilReaping rancid fruits long since despoiledUntil our depraved lives at last surceaseWe'll hunger for more grotesqueries...

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Extrapolating from the abhorrent, we disinter a sordid truthHeinously plundering death's depths like a bumbling violent sleuthTearing through the layers of decay with vicious rancor and bitter scornTo get at the cold, dead heart of the matter which we bring forth to mourn...Carnage canonized - We let death reign unfetteredDerangement eulogized - To the last bloody letterNo one can do it better...[Lead - Mike]In grisly detail we play out or own death scenes' coup de graceWith homicidal zeal we remove the curtain that decorum would drawRetrograding your morality in our sick, dead world, it had no placeDesecrating your sense of dignity, but of course in the end, it's all a matter of (dis)taste...Your values mollified - severed by clean, precise cuts, each to the lastYour senses vilified - taste and tolerance are now taken to task...In the name of gore, we'll set right this bloody scoreThe grave can't hold us anymore, we'll kick in the mausoleum doorsEven sicker than before, we enjoy this gruesome choreRevealing the ghastly horror, the face of death that you deploreRotting through the core, this slaughterous carnage you abhorIs the vocation we adore, as we drain another oozing soreBringing revulsion to the fore, as the vomit stains on the floorFOREVERMORE - IN THE NAME OF GORE...Stopping at nothing to indulge an off-color sense of tumorWe regurgitate force-fed atrocities straight onto a silver platterServing up ghastly repast hard to swallow without black humorWith tongue in cheek we gorge on the matter of splatterLeaving no headstone unturned and no gravesite unmarredOur wayward journey six feet straight down we undertakeDark horses tread swiftly through this unhallowed danse macabreSomnambulating through our own nightmares while fully awake...Never letting sleeping cadavers lie, we wring out their sickening storiesThough lending a near and a voice to the dead would make some winceNo detail is omitted, no matter how repulsive, vile or goryWe won't recant our morbid epithets, flesh, not words, is what we mince...[Lead - Matt]Decay by any other name would reek and fester just the sameWe delight in beating a dead corpse in its own malignant gameSlicing off another cutting remark that could shear off protruding bonesOur barbs are quite malicious and our verbal daggers sharply honed...Decay consecrated - wallowing in our own pathological wasteReality regurgitated - and smear right back in your f*cking face...In the name of gore, we'll set right this bloody scoreThe grave can't hold us anymore, we'll kick in the mausoleum doorsEven sicker than before, we enjoy this gruesome choreRevealing the ghastly horror, the face of death that you deploreRotting through the core, this slaughterous carnage you abhorIs the vocation we adore, as we drain another oozing soreBringing revulsion to the fore, as the vomit stains on the floorFOREVERMORE - IN THE NAME OF GORE...

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Upon a knife's edge, your sanity stretchedNerves wrenched on the rackA step beyond the ledge, sends you headlong into madnessWith no turning back...Arcs of light to penetrate you - stabbing picqueristic feintsGleaming blight to perforate you - throbbing voyeuristic taints...Each atrocity exacerbating, upon a carnal continuumThey careen unhinderedEach animosity accelerating, as any shred of sanityIs systematically splintered...Gouging slashes to perforate you - in a bind you're peeled and silveredMaiming gashes to truncate you - you're signed sealed and delivered...Arcing violence apexes with deadly consequencesTrapped in its blind blight, your death revealed in the arclight...Dehumanized, objectified, unsanctified, anatomized...Uncreating, unabating, underhanded, undertaking...[Lead - Mike]Underhanded, undertaking...[Lead - Mike]Insensate, inanimate, I mutilate, 'til I ejacul*teUnforgiving, unfeeling, unveiling your undoingIt was your destiny to die for me, your anatomy, will fuel my fantasiesReliving, revealing, reviling, your dying... your dying...Your final moments spent in fettersAnd after death you'll be dismemberedBody parts to torment, to incite me to rememberThese bloodstained memories crystallized forever...Irons and chains to degrade you - as each instant grows inexorably worseKnifepoints and members to invade you - stinging wounds brand my name on your corpse...Tearing at chunks postmortemYour breasts fall prey, to mandibular avulsionFeeling a swelling at the base of my scrotumThere is only arousal, where there should be revulsion...Heavy manacles to immobilize you - the better to act out my whims unabatedAs a cannibal I'll immortalize you - until my appetites next needs to be sated...Eternally apexing arc of violence, brings a bevy of consequencesAt the continuum's end with no end in sight, seeing only death in the arclight...

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Calcified infant is a breach birth debacleNatal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehyde-filled bottleCaesarean section reveals the ghastly totAn ossified infant, in its womb borne to rotLivid and stiff ere its first breath is claimedThe rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimedCold, dead and hard as it's exhumed from the wombThe uterus its cradle, and its moist fetid tomb...Only scalpels left for playthingsSwaddling clothes bloody but not from chafingBaptism by embalming solutionAs the trocar facilities the cold blood's dilution...Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceivedBirth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrievedLivid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dryBirth is just a forensic folly when in being born one diesBirth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her gutsThe morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cutAnother tiny life that ended before it could beginAnother piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin...Neither gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lipsPlacenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord ripsMorbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little earsAs the dry-eyed infant incites parents to bitter tears...Obstetric atrocityWith a casket for a cribNursery for an autopsyBody bag for a bib...Hush little baby, don't say a wordMama's going to have to get a casket reservedBut if your body is too decomposedThe coffin door will have to stay closedA babe in her armsNot safe from harmWhen the water breaks, the cradle will rotA nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and forgot...[Lead - Matt]Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilkNursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother's milkSilent baby rattles stilledThe doctor's gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filledMorbid anatomy technicians are the child's only playmatesCallously dissecting, the infantile inanimateA bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one's tomb and trundleAs inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle...Dead before ever being alive to dieEyes closed forever ere the first tear could dryMouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cryDissected infant on the table, dead-cut and dry...Newborn fatalityWhose playpen is a slabLifeless nativityDiminutive toes to be tagged...Now I lay you down to sleepYour putrid flesh not long to keepIf you should rot before you wakeThen leave your corpse for the worms to takeIn the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgueSobs are heard from the maternity wardBut from the mouth of babes, no sound escapesIn this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes...

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Strike my name from the book of lifeInscribed forever in the book of deathDestroyer, life-taker, the end and the omegaDeath walks behind you, waiting to find you to dismember...The bloody work of death is not too great a taskAll this and more, I now hold in my graspLike the fear that holds you fast, like the last breath you cannot gaspYour end comes slashing down, your death revealed at last...Ends such as yours are the trade that I plyStricken by death as your life flashes byFrom an autopsy, to a cemetery, then to the grave, your final destinyCarnage and sin are my blood, kith and kin, and to your end, they will be...As all begins, so all must end, now your end I shall beginFrom dust to dust, return again, life ends in sinThe circle turns back on itself, life ends in death and pain and hellAnd dead men have no tales to tell, nor souls to sell...[Lead - Matt]Death walks at my right hand, and there's a knife-blade in my leftTurning living into dying, soon to be friends and mourners cryingDispossessing the flesh, leaving deathBut no clues for the finding...The bloody work of death is not too great a taskAll this and more, I now hold in my graspLike the fear that holds you fast, like the last breath you cannot gaspYour end comes slashing down, your death revealed at last...

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The ashen grey muse commissions a new verseA song to while away the long sojourn in the hearseYet all of us who danse macabre to these dour, dismal tunesBecome cold, grim and hard as the dirt upon the tomb...In darkened dirges death's knell peals out it's tollAs another cadaver is consigned six feet down to its holeBut ere the last shovel of dirt falls on the wall of the boxWe gravely offer a salute to those about to rot...So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the deadLife's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaidAs from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in redLike rats by the piper we're led, to join in this song for the dead...[Lead - Mike]The humor of the gallons never fails to ring trueIn this dead, bleak, sick world that we're hung, drawn and quartered thoughAs each internecine instrument plays its own bloody partThe hammering of coffin nails outpaces the beating of our hearts...Symphonic surgery orchestrated, a cleaver conductsThe execrable epiphany comes too late, just to reduce us to chunksRising up from the sod heaves a gross, putrid breathAs the chorus is joined in this song for the dead...So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the deadLife's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaidAs from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in redLike rats by the piper we're led, to join in this song for the dead...[Lead - Matt]Truncated toccatas deranged - raked across barbed strings and hackedEviscerated etudes for the de-brained - plucked upon heartstring stretched on the rackMedicinal movements decomposed - Regurgitating oratorios obsceneForensic fugues and de-boned - Mutilating the melody's method and means...The crepitated coda dies in mid-refrainAs the sheet-music is obscured by a sanguine scarlet stainShattered stave lodged in your split-open splattered brainThe ruptured meter falters as the bow is fretted once again...Acrid arias are screechedThe bloated thorax is breachedAbrading viscera with bleachGrotesquely gavage the deceased...[Lead - Matt]Cleaving the clefBroken notes bleed into a messFalling on ears so deafSo it ever is in death...Carbonized cantatas corrupt - ringing out, sewing seeds of dischord and dismaySuppurated sonatas erupt - Purulent pizzicatos slicing every which wayThe truncated cadence is sundered - Bloody scraps of sheet music unintellibly scrawledThrenodies resonate six feet under - To where all life's fractured melodies will finally resolve...The symphonic slaughter's swells without restraintAs the cacophonous cadenza splits your eardrums clean in twainThe repugnant orchestra pit an abattoir of death and painThe hatchet falls in sharp staccato until everyone is slain...

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Headstones overturned and smashedYour f*cking corpse I want to thrashThe cold, hard ground I hack and slashCoffins torns apart like trashSix feet closer to your doomFrom this grave I will exhumeHorrid flesh my blade consumesAs I destroy your earthen tomb!Vacant GraveTo remove my rotting prizeFrom the soil the box will riseDisembalm the cadaverizedDefile the dead I so despiseThe pick-axe now unburiedSlaughter in the cemeteryFrom the site the corpse is carriedThe ink still wet on the obituaryVacant GraveYour hands and feet I masticateThe body I incinerateA shovel used to decapitateThe corpse`s head I obliterateOnly pieces they will findOf the carnage so unkindTwisted fragments of your spineAt the hole I left behind!Vacant Grave!

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Cleaving away at any extremity, from his torso his appendages are rippedAnother pass of my chainsaw, and his leg is disjoined at the hipCutting with my shoulder blade, his forearm I lustily seizeBit by bit deconstructing his demise, allowing my victim no pieceLimb from limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limbDislimbing my victims for my collection of severed and rotting keepsakesTrophies for my room displayed in mylar on decorative platters and stakesOnce in possession of the fleshy sinewy gew gaws that I demandOnly these quadrapalegic cadavers are left to give me a handLimb from limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limbTaking her hand and arms and legs, she is left looking quite stumped,Collecting the body parts that I greedily hoarde, the torso is callously dumpedHer grevious wounds spill precious ichor, upon the makeshift abatoir's floorBut the sacrifice is not made in vein, donating her arms to the poorLimb from limb - Mercilessly taking people for an arm and a legLimb from limb - An unscrupulous bargain upon which you cannot renegLimb from limb - I have so many, but I always hanker for moreLimb from limb - At times it's impossible to get a foot in the doorLimb from limbFrom limbFrom limbFrom limb from f*cking limbFrom limbFrom limbYou must hand it to me as I split you at the seamsI always get a leg up on my victims, your ensanguined projections I gleanJigsawed without hope of reassembly, I take what's yours as mineYou watch as your existence slips away, your losing it one piece at a time

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I scrawled an ode to this mortal coilIn scarlet upon your backI gnarled in code with dreadful toilA parting verse so black...Ivory skin streched out before meIn frozen fields of pallid graceLivid eyes rolled back and silently implored meFrom out of your jaundiced faceCarving in crimson with scalpel and raspSculpturing your flesh into your epitaphYour corpse tells its tale in blood, pus and grumeSpilling out secrets you should take to your tombA carnal epitaph perhaps best left unheardThe time has come to mince more than wordsParting words don`t often cut this deepEngraved on your back, the secrets we`ll keepThough you`ll never read these empty wordsUpon the slab you lie so stillThey don`t cut as deep as you deservePoetic licence to hack, maim, and kill...The porcelain flesh that enshrouds you remainsWere both my parchment and my museNow incarnadined hand I penned these linesAs best I could well manageI cruelly carved out these designsWhat words are worth in tissue damage... Carving in crimson with scalpel and raspSculpturing your flesh into your epitaphYour corpse tells its tale in blood, pus and grumeSpilling out secrets you should take to your tombA carnal epitaph perhaps best left unheardThe time has come to mince more than wordsParting words don`t often cut this deepEngraved on your back, the secrets we`ll keep...

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Fahrenheit facilities my endeavourTo seal the abhorrent aperture forever...Chastity assured, regardless of desireMisshapen fidelity, forged in fire...Melt and weld...Raze and smeltBlistering crotch...Searing hot...Forged in fire - Formed in flameSex will never be the sameForged in fire - Formed in flameYou will never f*ck againBlistering and boiling vagin*l skinEternally sealing this gateway of sin...Scalding and melding her mingeSmell the acid reek of pubic hair singed...Melt and weld...Raze and smeltBlistering crotch...Searing hot...Forged in fire - Formed in flameSex will never be the sameForged in fire - Formed in flameYou will never f*ck againCrumbling crooze...Crack and oozeBlack as tar...Forever scarredSmoking groin...Splattered loinMolten orifice...Now I seal your lips...Forever...Fluxing flesh collapses under its own weightThe molten labia majora with my blowtorch I liquidateThe vagin* rendered impenetrableThe blackened cl*tor*s is unmendableWaxen labia now gelatinous and congealedThe faithless breach at last is sealedForge the seal...the flesh now peeledBubbling flesh starts to glut...Castrated vagin* now shut...Forged in fire - Formed in flameSex will never be the sameForged in fire - Formed in flameYou will never f*ck again

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[Lyrics originally written by Carcass]Grimly I dig up the turfs To remove the corrupted stiffs Trying to contain my excitement As I desecrate graveolent crypts... Fingers claw at coffin lids Eager festal exhumation Hugging your wry, festered remains With post-humous joy and elation... Body snatched, freshly interred Whatever takes my fancy To satisfy my gratuitous pica My culinary necromancy... Scrutinised then brutalised My forensic inquisition is fulfiled My recipe is now your epitaph Be it fried, boiled or grilled... I devour the pediculous corpse Whetting my palate as I exhume The festering stench of rotting flesh Makes me drool as I consume... Caskets I grate My larder's a grave I'm sickly obsessed (with the badly decomposed) Rotten remains I eat Purulent meat What a funeral feast (putrid reek) Weeping tissue is stripped Pus dribbles from my lips Pulverising this pustular chaff Butchering up morgue's makes me laugh... Ulcerated flesh I munch Rotting corpses are my lunch On bones I love to crunch (on the badly decomposed) Shrivelled innards I lick The corpse's head I kick Crumbling shreds I pick (eat the stiffs) [Solo: morbid melody for the deceased with salt to taste] Rancid flesh, slaughter the dead - Caskets exhumed... Corpses disinterred, graves disturbed - To consume... Bereaved relatives are not amused As on their dear departed I feverishly consume... Slavering worms, decomposure burns Corrosion born, as bacteria gnaw Desecrate... Precipitate....(from the muddy grave) Macerate... Eviscerate... Caskets I grate My larder's a grave I'm sickly obsessed (with the badly decomposed) Rotten remains I eat Purulent meat What a funeral feast (putrid reek) Saponified fats, nibbled by rats - freshly exhumed... Deep down six feet is where I like to eat - Human flesh to consume...

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Your abdomen punctured just beneath the chestTo access the gizzards he soon will infestThis gurgling oblique aponeurosis is splitBy an influx of patogens through the hypogastric slit...InfesterYour entrails reviled as they`re plagued and infectedBy diseased bacteria he has injectedForced to play host to neurotropic grimeYour innards now plagued with pathogenic slime...Infester Organs sputter and spasm drowned in the cessSphinctral vlaves clogged by this viral excessYour abdomen bloats with virulent eruptionDiscontented intestines crepitating in corruptionEaten from the inside out your life`s being consumedFestered rot in your guts turns your body to your tomb...His handiwork your funeral, he watches with a laughSardonic smile across his face as you wretch your epitaph...Within yourchruning belly necrosis necrosis spreads and thrivesAn excruciating way to die: Infested alive!!!Infester

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A crush course through your craniumTrial and error, wear and tear, through your cerebellumHacking - slashingSaw through bone, tear through gristleCarve my way through muscle tissueCleaving - gougingA lesson in pathologyI deconstruct your anatomyFor you - a premature autopsyFor me - a lesson in pathologyPostmortem performed haphazardlyDraining ichor sprays erraticallyForensick medicine is lost on meI need a lesson in pathologyThough this carnal curriculum I passSuppurated blood congeals in a moist, fetid mass...Gagging - chokingA lesson in pathologyEmbalming fluid sprays all over meMaking a mess of your necropsyJust another lesson in pathologyThis is a medical atrocityScreams echo in mortuaryExtracurricural necro-sodomyA painful lesson in pathologyThis will be your truly final examButchered by numbers, carved up by handDismemberment is par for this course of instructionChopped, minced and ground beyond hope of reconstructionScored, scoured and scarred with high marksAlong the lenght of unrecognizable body parts...Gutted, butchered...Your remains have failed me - there is nothing left to maimI`ve learned nothing from this lesson, and I`ve only the dead to blameYour chapter closed, it`s time to decomposeA lesson in pathologyI deconstruct your anatomyFor you - a premature autopsyFor me - a lesson in pathologyPostmortem performed haphazardlyDraining ichor sprays erraticallyForensick medicine is lost on meI need a lesson in pathology!

20.

Intracranial inflammation tormenting my addled gray matterBrings the pressure that builds ‘til my skulls set to shatterThe vexating, purulent ulcer that plagues the seat of my reasonPyosisifying my seething brain while the pain keeps increasingUnaffected by chemotherapy, the infection acceleratesVomiting, vertigo, assailing me, as my condition deterioratesSuppurating my sanity, as the pus and my cerebrum coalesceWe must endeavor surgery for pyo-egress...open the abscess!Fermenting my faculties into a yellowish mass of necrosisLiquefying my lobes give way to acute cerebro-thrombosisThis consuming malady I lament with a gangrenous consciousness cursedPyomorphic longitudinal fissure swells to the brim of a skull fit to burstPurulent precentral gyrus, consumed by this afflictionSwelling, seething, distended virus, incurable by prescriptionDissect my festered intellect, operate to end my distressA condition impossible to correct, unless...Lead – MattLead – MikeLead – MattLead – MikeOpen the abscess!!!This blistered, bulbous inflammation, a blight upon my brainMy mind made up of suppuration, to end this throbbing painCrack the cranium, lance the boil, aspirate the pusOr let me leave this mortal coil in which I am trussed