In the deadest of nights I perform a graveside disservice, Disinhuming the
remains of those who I deem to deserve this, A corpse dead to rights will
undergo this rigorous trashing, Selecting the tomb of the poor stiff that
tonight I will be thrashing... Exhumed from the shelter of earth's dusty
embrace for a morbid curiosity, Then abruptly dismembered without
compunction, just pure feriocity... Consumed and left to welter, In shredded
entrails and long dessciated pus, Wiping the firt from my hands, As I walk
from the grave that I've trampled to dust... Caskets uprooted, mausoleums
stained red, Riding high six feet deep amongst the deadest of the dead, A
tombstone is the sole mute witness, To necro-attrocities as I endeavor to
split this... Corpse in half, stricken by my wrath, The carcass is maimed,
Cleft by pick-axe, halved, quartered and smashed, The gravesite's in flames,
Culled from the reams of obituaries deep in the cemetary, I torment the
entombed, The dead should be wary of the grudges I carry, Deep into the
gloom... Riding high six feet under, Inhale the stench of my nocturnal
plunderm I'll never find piece in a cold, hard death bed, Until I have found
the deadest of the dead... Your insipid epitaph rots, In the dead-letter file,
A necrophile's smile beguiles, Your remains thus defiled, The decrepit
laughter echoes, In the now vacant burial plot, Decayed, dead and decomposed,
But in peace you'll never rot... Piss on the unholy grave, torso carved and
depraved, Now gone the way of all flesh to give me this day my daily death,
The next to fall prey to my sepulchural slaughter, Another dead festering
corpse whose demise has at last brought her... Under the blade, she's carved
up and flayed, Body dismembered, No respects paid, I hack up the slayed, |