[Intro]
Now that I have my trophy, of your anatomy
Your stiff can be excised aberrantly
[Verse]
Convulsions, transpire, your seeping suppuration
Our intimacy is arcane to culture
These ethics I contain in my arsenal of pleasure
Fail to be appreciated
[Bridge]
Your proposition, isn't good
My expectations don't meet, yours
[Pre-Breakdown]
In due time I'll dictate your vile form
Into my incapable hands and claim you for my own!
[Breakdown]
You're born, into, these hands, again!
Send the sl*t, back to hell
Send the sl*t, back to hell
Send the sl*t, back to hell
Send the sl*t, back to hell
[Outro]
Another whore to seek, to fondle and misuse
Back to the grave, to exhume again