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
Funeral held for the depression of man Holds the key to his own death Entering a tomb of a corpse yet conceived Tighten the tourniquet around your neck
mortis pravo Vita brevis breviter in brevi finietur mors venit velociter quae neminem veretur omnia mors perimit et nulli miseretur et nulli miseretur. Ad mortem
Mortem saluta, Cry, beauty,cry, no-one can hear you. Pray, precious, pray. For a sudden end, precious, pray. Peritura mortem saluta. Secrets you have
[Lyrics by Galder] A burning lust for pleasure less desire A needless urge to kill Fearful thoughts, a strength we admire With hate that their minds
s grasp around your neck The hour has come to release And to welcome the razorsharp fate Feel the jaws of the snake Slaves under cosmic contempt Mortem
Depressed. A series of unlawful acts dedicated to you. Grow up, but don't forget the times we spent. And now they're gone. You feel the pain. You're trembling
Blessed by the unlord I m as i enjoy this moment given, when my limb hard and hot penetrate these hard cold apertures. Form these putrefacted in which
Coagulated gore of cadaveric festers Stagnated for days in your putrid intestines Fermenting juices of hepatic secretion Soured bile foam hastens ulceration
Through the Keyhole A Bloody Scene I behold A Brutal Orgy of Gore is performed behind this door Surgeons destroy with malicious joy Dismembering fest
Chamber of the mourner Ashes of a morning mass Six feet of earth to lay On wooden home forever Chamber of the griever Hope of dawn cut away Bowing
This is where the bodies fell Feel the pressure on the surface Too long buried arrogance Rising up to reign Palpable and crystal pure Sovereign and without
When your hands speak, my body converted to ears When you grasp for air, all my words undone This is it When your longing grows, I shall encircle
[Instrumental]
[See these bleeding hands that you left to dry Your garden is stolen, your flowers died Bow to your own deeds, bow down in shame May the woods have mercy
Head on pillow Hand and mouth like dust that softly, softly falls Spirit and flesh, wait and see In time it all amounts to bone
Oh, little figures that toil under weather and sun Your backbreaking labor is earning you nothing but hopes undone Here nothing is sacred; what pride