For every life I take, an ecosystem I create Blood and guts consumes my life I am the brutal gardener, I, quantity controller No more insane than Jesus Christ Forgive my humble abode Rotting bodies clogging the commode Please pardon the stench And the trunk of a man lying on the workbench Out by the shed Are buzzing hives made of human heads The gestation of larvae tells us The time of death Decomposition, an exhibition of life That springs from tragedy Degeneration, breakdown and maturation of DNA The residue of death The twilight falls on maggots burrowing in flesh Dead, the dead now dead as can be The cadaver now giving life harmoniously A God, this makes me a God This is absurd and quite obscene The corruption of human beings My back yard Now a goddamned crime scene I am the ying, I am the yang Good and evil are one and the same No more insane than Jesus Christ The smell is part of the charm When you live on a body farm I walk with the stench of decay Along corpse littered paths at the break of the day Ah, the irony in being a killer Yet in the crime solving community, I am a pillar A corpse turns to mulch with a good roto-tiller I kill for the good of man Decomposition, a morbid demonstration The cycle of life in all its majesty Degeneration, curdling fermentation Of heaps and heaps of human meat The twilight falls on maggots burrowing in flesh Dead, the dead now dead as can be The cadaver now giving life harmoniously A God, this makes me a God
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 11:14:07 +0000