Squalor Opera - Aborted

I, I am the face of your torment

I, I am your sin personified

With picturesque decay I paint a world full of problems

Insanity, I am the herald of your misery

With lewd demeanour my visions congregate

A sickening black hole of debauchery

Construed to keep free thought at bay

A sickening hole, taking control

Wallowing in a wasteland, a sordid cacophony

Shrouded by a terror vision

Indoctrinated abomination

The grandest farce, misanthropic global diversion

Oh morbus operandi — invasive surgery through psychopathic imagery

Hypocritical congregation — an obnoxious freakshow for the mentally bizarre

Extermination policies for the weak and poor

We embrace our very end with the greatest amour

I, I am a vision of madness

I, I am the end complete

With a sickening display I portray all your problems

Pure lunacy, A mirror of society

Oh morbus operandi — invasive surgery through psychopathic imagery

Hypocritical congregation — an obnoxious freakshow for the mentally bizarre

Extermination policies for the weak and poor

We embrace our very end with the greatest amour

Gluttonous we keep devouring more

Moth to a flame, brainless necrovores

Epitome of the insane, we beg for more

Enter the Opera

Gluttonous we keep devouring more

Moth to a flame, brainless necrovores

Epitome of the insane, we beg for more

Enter the Opera

Gray matter rot, a voracious plot

No voice of reason, it pertains to treason

We adore a generation of idiots

Damned and doomed we embrace it like fools

No thought or reason, fill our heads with feces

Gray matter rot, a voracious plot

No thought or reason, fill our heads with feces