Exhumed - Your Funeral, My Feast Lyrics
Epicurean pathologyShattered gross anatomyBodily fluids, foul and septicI sing the body decrepitYour funeral, my feastYou'll never rest in peaceTagged, sectioned, then slabbedSlurp fluids from your body-bagRepulsive, jaundiced flesh - The stomach-turning sight, that I love bestNecrosis setting in - Discolored, rotting, mottled skinThe weevils writhe and squirm - Your torso now alive with wormsAs organs liquefy - I whet my abhorrent appetiteYour funeral, my feastA masterstroke of rotting meatMy dinner table's where you rest in pieceYour funeral, my feastGruesome garnish, moist carnageRaw bits of human garbageThe chunks seep, they won't keepGnashing through, as each piece bleedsYour decay, my entréeI wouldn't have it any other wayMaggot millet, stuffs your gulletTo please my most deranged of palettesSplenetic, ghastly taste - The stinking savor of pathological wasteTrypsin and Pepsin marinate - The loathsome bowels I masticateTo dine upon this foul concoction - Requires a taste for extreme unctionBut for those who have the stomach - We sate our hunger on tripe and vomitYour funeral, my feastA masterstroke of rotting meatMy dinner table's where you rest in pieceYour funeral, my feast[Lead – Matt]Your funeral, my feast