Exhumed In my Human Slaughterhouse Lyrics:
By night I return to the storage shed, Anxious to
catch a glimpse of the dead, Nervously, I unbolt
the door, Making my way into this abatoir... Hot
air rushes out the aperture, A putrid gust of
flattus and methane, Inhaling the rotting fumes as
I choke, Hit by a wave of nausea I try to
restrain... At last I regard the bloated stiffs,
Terribly dislimbed and deceased, My plumpened
prizes now swollen by putrefaction, A makeshift
mortuary for the obese... Their corpulence
exceeded solely, By the foulness of their smell,
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Their girth only expanded upon in death, The
fleshy carcasses bloat and swell... Postmortem
hypertrophy plagues the hefty cadavers, Their
portly bodies now thoroughly dead, The incessant
buzzing of insects as necrovores slaver, Fills the
tepid chamber whose walls I've stained red... I
hacked through their layers of blubbering fat,
Some were gutted, some punctured, some razed, When
I finished I found them decidedly flat, If not yet
dead, then at least bleeding and dazed... In this
dingy shack I had left them to rot, And then
departed the undignified scene, The makeshift
crypt they inhabit now fetid and hot, The curdling
innards turned a sickly shade of green
Lyrics: In my Human Slaughterhouse, Exhumed [end]