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Impaled
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Fæces Of Death
作詞：K. Baker
Desiccated flesh I peruse
Your vacuous form is devoid of all life
Poetry in motions
As yet another stiff goes under the knife
Soaked in the fluids of the dead
Mucous, blood and pus
Your abdomen a quagmire of maturating chyme
With preservatives and soaps your innards I flush
Melting organs degenerate into foam
This unctuous melange is disgorged into tureens
Down the drain, your insides wash away
A cold empty shell, the slate is wiped clean
Incruental, exsanguinated husk
Intubated, a trocar is thrust
Incarnadine with offal you'll erupt
Your carcass I'll corrupt
Despumated, your ribcage is swabbed
Detumescence, in solidifying globs
Devenustated, you've lost all your charm
In my incapable hands you will surely come to harm
Your evacuated torso is stuffed
With soiled toilet tissue, balled into clumps
Diarrhea is imbued with a smile
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With my conspurcate concoction, your body I defile
Innundated arteries now burst
In festering excreta, immersed
Your body is awash in disease
When I'm alone in the morgue, I do as I please
Plugs of cotton soak up minor spills
(You're quite a mess)
The rich, foamy lather of putrefying bungs
Your fetor is inhaled with a thrill
(I can't protest)
The flatulent bouquet matures in my lungs
Exspiscating, my work didn't take
Exundated, the sutures proceed to break
Exspuition, the contents are purged
Flesh and fæces are merged
Embalmed with septic mung
Capillaries choked with dung
A piss poor excuse
For an open casket funeral
Abdomen is sunken in
My fÅ'tid breath is laced with gin
Your cadaver on display
For the bereaved to mull
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