lyrics by lord worm
in the kitchen
with a screaming triple amputee;
it’s complection depends soley
on my needs.
said amputee stumps
are my way of saying;
“thank you just for being you.”
it’s fear tastes better than it’s limbs.
terror of mortality,
i draw from the slowly dying d*mned
monsters live behind my eyes;
i let them out and people die.
and all the grave worms
that come for their piece of meat?
i give them dead things..
the wretched living are mine alone
fright mounts with the body count
to which anthropomancy predicts a decline
in all of god’s creation,
can there be a lifestyle that’s better than this?
i mark my territory
with their blood and excritement
i can find my way in the dark;
my fulfilment is habitually necromanic
and *n*l abusive..
seen through the eyes of a mortician
they’ve “caught” me, as they call it;
my teeth and my s*m*n have betrayed me..
tests to gauge my rationale,
the likes of which these feeble minds have
my responses to which inspire fear…
from my lizard side,
the amoral alien speaks;
“these aren’t b*tterflies,
i see a face i’d like to burn.”
of the authorities with lies,
and my natur
alability to charm and be me,
or whoever they want;
i’ve known all minds by divine right.
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