1. Necromaniac

Awakened by an unquenchable addiction, To walk hand in hand with death,
Exhumed to transcend the walls of the coffin, And search for newly rotted
flesh... Casket crushing and dismantling the grave, With other fiends in this
sadistic enclave, On draughts of blood my thirst is slaked, Underfoot the
mouldy bones break... Nocturnal devestation my only aim, Dead or living, I
seek out and maim, Six feet is the depth of my obsession,
Adding masterpieces to my morbid collection... Corpses lay ripped limb from
limb in
disarray, A cadaveric splatter platter carved, hacked and flayed, Imbibing
blood and alcohol "til vomit flows red, Then back to the grave for indignities
to the dead... Necromaniac... The naked and the dead gore whore slashed,
Opened her torso after plundering her gash, A bone fucking, pus grinding
necromaniac, Assaulting the dead with this fucking gore attack... In the
name of gore I violate the deceased, Rest assured that you will never rest in
peace, The dust in the mausoleum will never settle, From the relentless
pounding of gore fucking metal... Necromaniac...

2. Open The Abscess

Intracranial inflammation tormenting my addled gray matter, Brings the
pressure that builds "til my skulls set to shatter, The vexating, purulent
ulcer that plagues the seat of my reason, Pyosisifying my seething brain while
the pain keeps increasing... Unaffected by chemotherapy, the infection
accelerates, Vomiting, vertigo, assailing me, as my condition deteriorates,
Suppurating my sanity, as the pus and my cerebrum coalesce, We must endeavor
surgery for pyo-egress... Open the abscess... Fermenting my faculties into a
yellowish mass of necrosis, Liquefying my lobes give way to acute
cerebro-thrombosis,
This consuming malady I lament with a gangrenous
consciousness cursed, Pyomorphic longitudinal fissure swells to the brim of a
skull fit to burst... Purulent precentral gyrus, consumed by this affliction,
Swelling, seething, distended virus, incurable by prescription, Dissect my
festered intellect, operate to end my distress, A condition impossible to
correct, unless... Open the abscess... This blistered, bulbous inflammation, a
blight upon my brain, My mind made up of suppuration, to end this throbbing
pain, Crack the cranium, lance the boil, aspirate the pus,
Or let me leave this mortal coil in which I am trussed...

3. Post-Mortem Procedures

In the dissection of flesh and the sawing of bone, I've coaxed confessions
from the lips of the dead, Postmortem scrutiny that has clinically shone, The
horrifying facts that would have never been said... Unbosoming their secrets
in the sickening results of their demise, Stomaching these wretched human
riddles, I carve, hack and slice, Illuminating the dusty skeletons that lurk
in closets, bones and entrails, Enduring the ghastly visage of violent death
in my forensic travails... Whether in pieces or completely decomposed, I asses
with clinical indifference, The remnants of a life which grisly circumstance
has brought to this office, Ensuring that truth shall endure after the flesh
has crumbled and rotted away, Elucidating atrocities and carnage, the
thankless job I perform day after day... Persistent incisions that cut to the
quick are my stock in trade, To scrutinize what remains of a life,
painstaking effort will have to be made, At times both evidence and flesh are
profoundly encrypted and shred, It can be murder to pry answers from the
mouths of the dead... A gutted torso can pose a bevy of answerless questions
to deliberate, Probing with a scalpel, I expose the morbid cavity that I now
must eviscerate, Unlocking death's mysteries with my forceps, tweezers and
saw, Wringing revelations from a fibula, fossa or jaw... Recording
confessions that are uttered without making a sound, From informants long dead
that I've culled from the ground, Beneath the pallid veil of cold flesh or
enshrouded in the shredded remains of a face,
Exhuming the truth is my occupation, no matter how decrepit its resting
place... Within the bowels of a
horribly mutilated corpse or a splattered brain, Picking apart flesh and
deceit "til only the cold facts remain, Dead men will tell tales if you know
how to listen and learn, Even when they've been stabbed, beaten, shot, hacked
up and burned... This morbid quest for knowledge is not without its rewards,
Much can be extrapolated from a decrepit infants gourd, My bureau's a slab, my
text is a corpse, and I've studied with sincere, ardent fervor, And found that
often man's inhumanity to man is all to well deserved...

4. Limb From Limb

Cleaving away at any extremity, From his torso his appendages are ripped,
Another pass of my chainsaw, And his leg is disjoined at the hip, Cutting with
my shoulder blade, His forearm I lustily seize, Bit by bit deconstructing his
demise, Allowing my victim no piece... Limb from limb... Dislimbing my victims
for my collection of severed and rotting keepsakes, Trophies for my room
displayed in mylar on decorative platters and stakes, Once in possession of
the fleshy sinewy gew gaws that I demand, Only these quadrapalegic cadavers
are left to give me a hand... Limb from limb... Taking her hand and arms and
legs, She is left looking quite stumped, Collecting the body parts that I
greedily hoarde,
The torso is callously dumped, Her grevious wounds spill
precious ichor, Upon the makeshift abatoir's floor, But the sacrifice is not
made in vein, Donating her arms to the poor... Limb from limb, mercilessly
taking people for an arm and a leg, Limb from limb, an unscrupulous bargain
upon which you cannot reneg, Limb from limb, I have so many, but I always
hanker for more, Limb from limb, at times it's impossible to get a foot in the
door... Limb from limb... You must hand it to me as I split you at the seams,
I always get a leg up on my victims, your ensanguined projections I glean,
Jigsawed without hope of reassembly, I take what's yours as mine, You watch as
your existence slips away, your losing it one piece at a time...

5. Enucleation

Fastened down and secured to the operating table, With scalpels and cutlery I
will work upon your aesthetics, A most afflictive process you are made to
endure, Without the solacing service of a general anasthetic... Forcibly
penetrating the palpebra, I gouge and cut into the ciliary body, Severing the
nerve, your eye is knocked from its orbit, As you can plainly see...
Dissatisfied with your over all being, I formulate a plan of operation, A
large incision into the abdomen is made, To perform general enucleation... I
give you an apendectomy, Removing organs unnecessary, A spare kidney is
excised, In pain you writhe... (chorus) I slice the renal artery,
Gastro-intestinal-otomy, Digestive tract dislocation, Subjected to
enucleation... With monocular vision you can now regard, The constituents of
your gut I have displaced, Depurating the shell, your thorax beautifully
carved, Your abdomen now a barren landscape... Fracturing the rib cage with a
raspatory, As your gullet is gorged with sanguineous muco-sputter, Not yet
complete curtailing your anatomy, I delve to the heart of the matter...
Exhuming your entrails, Discarded organs grow stale, Severing the ventricle,
Your heart I cull... chorus...

6. Casket Crusher

Tombstones trampled in my wake, As I see to a matter quite grave, The earth is
turned as my claim is staked, Besoiling my pickaxe, trowel and stave, Caskets
pounded and splintered "til they bust, Flesh, bone and casket give way, It
smashes to ashes, crushed to dust, Shattering the decrepit grip of decay...
(chorus) Decrypt, casket crusher, Defile, casket crusher, Destroy, casket
crusher, Decrypt, casket crusher, Defile, casket crusher, Destroy, casket
crusher, Crush, fucking casket crusher... Disinterred from the soil, To
bludgeon, trash and wreck, This rotted mortal coil, Wrapped tight around your
neck, The seal is shattered in one fell blow, The splintering wood crumbling
in shards, Driven into the stiff decaying below, The rigors (mortis) of death
can be hard... chorus... When falls the hammer into the grave,
So to will the thorax collapse, Inward the ribcage and sternum doth cave,
Heart, lungs and
aorta prolapse, Shattered sarcophagus driven through your groin, Skewered anus
now in shreds, Shards of pine pierce your rotten loins, So utterly fucking
dead... chorus...

7. Death Mask

A sombre study in an ashen shade of grey, The haunting eyes of the lifeless
not yet rotten, Embalming fluid stave off incursive decay, Chemicals course
through passages that life has forgotten, Preservatives bubble and fume shades
of jaundice and amber, Sequestered alone in my embalming chamber, Unknowing,
unseeing, and laid spread-eagle on the slab, A lackluster piece of meat I
polish, scrub, and swab... Meticulously grooming and brushing, clipping with
care, Each detail is attended to as I drag a comb through the hair, I beautify
the blemished face of the deceased, In the hopes that the bereaved will be
somewhat at peace... This is my endeavour of dubious merit, My morbid
application of sleight of hand, A charlatan for the mourning and timid, A
touch up artist for the dead, gone, and bland... To sanitize the ghastly
countenance of death, Whose true rigors are best left unseen, Powders,
puffs, and chemicals are all that is left, A corpse made to strut, prance, and
preen... Romanticizing rigor mortis, and death be not vain, Caked with layers
of powder, toner, and deceipt, I vomit on the floor at the leering, smiling
face, Leaving the deception not yet fully complete... My make-up kit now
callously discarded, No more use for toners, blushes, and rouge, Extracting
the tools of dissection, Forceps, scalpels, and pins I eagerly peruse...
A sanguinary frenzy now ensues, Carving, rending, and generally making a mess,
Carbonated embalming fluid foams from vacant eyesockets, Splattering and
sullying your sunday best... Ineptly mangled and randomly remade, Taking a
stab at plastic surgery on human remains, Weaving a wretched, fleshy tapestry
of gore, A collage of tongue, skin, blood, sinew, and brain... Your face
stricken with total disfiguration, The dignity of death now cruelly erased,
Somewhat innappropriately dressed for the somber occasion, No pretense remains
as you're sent off to your wake...

8. In My Human Slaughterhouse...

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, 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

9. Sepulchural Slaughter

From deep in the vault comes the sound of flesh cleaving, Limbs are sawed off
as mourners are bereaving, Sarcophagi splattered with offal and bile,
Tripe drips down the walls of this crypt now defiled... Sepulchural
slaughter... I
slaughter my meal with sublime expertise, A mad butcher quite adept at my
trade, Organs ground to pulp, to serve, chew and gulp, Now on my block your
head is laid, Slaughtering the deadstock I chop, Fromaldehyde oozes on the
floor, Mangled limbs are hacked "til they drop Leaving nothing but pure rotten
gore... The blade is sawing the flesh that's for gnawing, Tender morsels of
this human entre', The saw that is slicing my meal so enticing, Is a tool that
I've used to slay... The crumbling casket now conatins, Just graven gore and
splattered remains, Intestines strewn throughout the site, A grisly massacre,
the last fucking rite... Sepulchural slaughter...

10. Vagitarian II

Admiring the syphilitic visage, Of the pustule ridden genitals that I adore,
Oozing sebum and pus dribbling on the labia, Leaves me panting for more...
Vaginal excrements fume and funk, The stench of festering menstrual discharge,
The wafting odor tortues my nasal passage, The glistening cunt wet with blood...
A crust ridden musty flap of lust suffering, From severe
dermatological disorder, The sanguined slit lined with papules, And genital
warts along its fleshy borders... Licking the sickening twat, The foul stench
of the blistering crotch, Drinking the menstruated slop, Delight in each
pustular drop... Passing blood clots, Eating crotch rot, Septic blood and pus,
Consume the runny crust, Urine flows out of the slit, Piss washes over the
clit, Taste the blood and piss, Nothing compares to this... My face fully
buried within, The pubic mound of grime and warts, Voraciously lapping up
excrements of, Every sordid type and nauseating sort... The atrocious
nauseating odour, Proves too strong to resist in the end, The nauseating fumes
overwhelm me, As I vomit into the moist pungent gash... Regurgitate onto the
cunt, Puke on the gore ridden slut, Drunk off the urine flow, I bathe in the
afterglow...

11. Blazing Corpse

Consumption of flesh as dead tissue is uncreated, Rancid smoke effervesces as
your torpid corpse is cremated, Another inert mutilated mess is sent up in
flames, An expedient way to obscure the facts, figures and names... Flames
unmake flesh and bone as all semblance of life is erased, Ensuring ashen
anonymity for my dusty victims untraced, Bellows belch forth the stench of
roasted
human game, As the torso is engulfed in a torrid rush of flame...
Human kindling to burn, And then scrape into urns, Burnt to a crisp, Another
name scratched from my list... After fulfillment of the sadistic whims to
which I aspire, Their existence is expunged in the searing burst of fire, As
other truncated stiffs await the flames in a torpor, My nose is beset with the
reek of blazing corpses... Entrails eradicated by the scorching furnace blast,
The blistering temperature leaves you a thing of the past, Sweltering in
incandescence as you blister, boil and reek, Seething in flames as your
complexion turns ashen gray and bleak... Beyond recognition your liquefacted
body is now molten slag, Your charbroiled remans are scraped up in ziploc body
bags, Nothing to mark your birth, life or death, Smelted, scalded and singed
"til there's none of you left... Human broiler pan, As flames I fan, Cremated
husk, Return to dust...

12. Deadest Of The Dead

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, Who
no one remembers, Chainsaw fucked to the hilt, her guts have all spilled, I
destroy the interred, One foot in the grave, by the casket enslaved, I'm an
unholy terror... Riding high six feet down, Finding my niche in a hole in the
ground, One step over the dead-line I tread, In this graveyard of stiffs, I am
the deadest of the dead...

13. Sodomy And Lust

оригинал: Sodom

Behind the scenes of destiny
I adore you in this song for me
Call me within your holy house to dwell
Let me raise for myself in spell
Voluptuously dancing daughters of the night sky
Sing the rapturous love song with high
Let your sweet scented juice run
Waste away under the lashes of my whip

Bath in sin
Sadistic souls
Break their crust
Sodomy and lust

Carnal desire runs through my veins
Whipping boys and scapegoats cry in pain
Psychopathic terror during their sleep
My power asks why, my power is weak
Spineless bundles of my excess
Expurse of innocence and helplessness
In the perfumes of my secret orison
Fresh blood of children drops down on me
Bath in sin
Sadistic souls
Break their crust
Sodomy and lust

Madness, crime, disgrace, ptomaine
Excrements, contempt, violence, kill

Ordeals if a thousand deads congealed in gloom
Strike hard and deep, to hell with them master
Mighty prophet's stature shall surpass the stars
The passion is the smell of cremation
I spit on your crapulous creed curse them!
Sucking your giveth delight and bright glory
Strive ever to be more joyous to the death
Don't fear any god will deny you for this

Bath in sin
Sadistic souls
Break Their crust
Sodomy and lust