Festering Fiesta - Whitechapel

Staring at the remnants of the concoction of viral fluid

My appetite is repulsive nonetheless I still pursue

I’m basking in the glory I have so desired

I confer your presentation you’ve bestowed

Rusted tools excising rotting dead

Rusted tools excising rotting dead

With your corpse I lay caressing

My fun is done, it’s time to send you back

I’ll slam it six feet deep closer to hell

Descending back into your grave

You’ve been dismembered, molested and maimed

I can breathe again, erection wearing thin

Looking through the eyes of a necromaniac

A schizophrenic being uniting the dead

A post-mortem oath inscribed on your back

With this oath I’ve claimed your head

Morbid desires, finally fulfilled

Returning to the grave for a second course

Vile stench of dessication forming in my nodes

Chainsaw raping

Bloated carcass

Hacked to pieces

Necromaniac