Genitorturers - Procession Lyrics
Subjected nevermore, to the whims of the dyingSteal their flesh, from the pool of the lyingInjected more, erythematous moistureBeyond high, by the chosen kindFeel it, to breathe evermoreOf the wicked of the world, where processions' endSubjected nevermore, to the fears of the dyingFeel their high, attempts to alludeYour flesh will sigh, in the midst of moistureOne sect more for the chosen kindCan you feel it? Can you feel their high?Feel it! Breathe evermore!Breathe from the chosen kind, then lie back downFeel their high and breathe evermoreEnd your search for the nevermore