Children of the Filth - Autopsy

Out amongst the nothing, a retreat

The air is dead and stale, the mist it creeps

A filthy, stinking child in rags await

How where you to know she was the bait

You’re gonna die!

You stop to help the wretched little thing

When more emerges with stick and rocks and painful offerings

You’re beaten, whipped and forced to your demise

Your death is witnessed by a band of cruel and vicious eyes

Children of the filth

Born to rot, raised in ruin

Delighting in their kills

And they are not alone

Your loved ones come to find

When they go looking for you

And then they’ll loose their minds

In a rancid cave where lies the grotesquerie bizarre

With live ones behind bars

Cocks and breasts and faces torn are strewn across the ground

While inbred naked freaks

Consume with animalistic chewing sounds

Lead: Cutler

One by one your «saviors» are consumed

Their brains defiled, their bones made into weapons foul and true

There’s sick rejoicing for the twisted beasts

A severed head stares onward while excrements are released

Children of the filth

Born to rot, raised in ruin

Delighting in their kills