: I can see by the look on your face that you've got ringworm. I'm very sorry but, I have to tell you that you've got ringworm. It's a very common disease
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Destructhor] A depiction of the lamb, the lion, deplorably portrayed. The beast, the dragon, as in shadowy imagery, have the power
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Destructhor] Ultra death, hardcore trash; give me your call. Holy death, in presence of which I gave you it all Conformity through
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Trym] Stereogothic void - predestination of being. Psychothronic schizoid - conditioning the future. Past without content - life
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Destructhor/ T. Akkerhaugen] Esoteric knowledge about the last of things. My sweet eschatological vision. Foundation for the renewal
were the highlight of the ladder of evolution? No matter if you do your best, it`s still a worm world with you in the middle of the viper`s nest.
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Destructhor] Manifestation of the Storm Detonation. Abandonment, renunciation, nuclear abrasion. Maximum reality, ultimate reality
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Destructhor] The snake and the deers, corroding on the tree of the world. It`s your symbol of cosmos, axis-mundi. The downfall
: [Musick: Zamoth/ Destructhor] What can be heard of the sentiment of soilent green?. The B-29 Bomber, Enola Gay; a personified Grim Reaper, leaving
I'm a worm man, I'm fed up, there's no hope I wanna puke, I want some dirt I'm a w-w-worm man Gonna crawl in a hole, nobody's my friend I'm no good
Sneering at a leering lady as she stares and squirms At Wanda with her saintly smile and living wig of worms I like to watch their faces fall as
If you're the bird whenever we pretend it's summer Then I'm the worm, I know the part, it's such a bummer But fair is fair, if my segments get separated
I sit each morning, look at my empty notebook The room is quiet, the air conditioning sounds like rain falling Manic-depressive composer Robert Schumann
Although you think me cold and slimy I've got a nice home Tasted your best guacamole And siesta'd at noon in the cool of the soil A worm's life can be
I was walking through the country And passing through lovely scenery When I came upon some rotting remains And though the carcass was wormy Well, after
I'm a dog, and I can smell your smell right through your clothes And I espouse some views that you yourself just might not hold Sometimes I am given pause
I threw out a stupid common paperweight And it went out into the country To a place where other solid objects lie around Well, it's quite hard and so
When we met, it was in the hot green jungle Your perfect flesh impervious to anything fungal You would sweat coconut milk and I'd lie awake Restless with