Luyện nghe bài hát Consuming Impulse

Your dry throat without a saliva to sputter
As your pulpy tongue soundlessly threshes
Days without sustenance spent shackled and
Emaciated torso aches for the warm taste of

I will make a meal of you, your hunger I'll
Saw off your leg at the knee to put on dinner plate
Try not to at the pain that you feel
As I mince up your calf to prepare next meal

Cauterize the gargled wound to off the hemorrhage
You should the thought of your repast
down this bitter meal in spite of your revulsion
Though how long can your source of last?

Keeping yourself alive as force-fed your own flesh
If you don't eat up, you're truly meat
Legs turned to stumps, drinks gargled in clumps
In this case you really are you eat

gluttony
Culinary pathology, dietary
impulse
Ingest your to be

Quadriplegic you feed as your is served
Waste not ; want not, though not much to conserve
Severed and severely served upon a of splatter
After a the source of the sustenance barely even matters

Now a half-eaten torso gorged to the
Piece by piece you are fed the chicest
As the dinner-bell rings your bloody chops are licked
At the sight of your own roasted fat turned and browned on a

Your own meat in your mouth tastes and internecine
Noxious and moist, you get a of your own medicine
Gnashing, pieces of your with delight
Digesting death with each grotesque bloody bite

What's eating you? The seems to moot
Scraping chunks of your feet out of blood-soaked sopping boot
Bash open picked clean to suckle at the marrow
As your culinary milieu of options inexorably

Autophagous
Culinary pathology, butchery
impulse
Ingest your to be

Feeding time again, the thorax falls victim to this slaughter
Blood, pus and sebum replace wine, whiskey and
Sometimes survival will you an arm and a leg
Your spittle running, red with bits of reeking bloody

Masticate own genitals, choke on your bludgeoned testicles
With a hunger that will not be
The sweetest of meats is your soft, teats
That I'll be stuffing your face with

up your own skin, just to devour it again
Is a treat save for dessert
Fresh meat for your lunch, fibula cracked, drained and
As your overstuffed gullet and blurts

crudely resected anatomy is a wretched grisly sight
But your stumps arms just whet your appetite
Nibbling at the sinews of your bloody and wrists ravenously
Devouring your shredded survival in fleshly chunks and meaty

Eviscerate to gnaw at your own intestines
Bones from severed fingers this haphazard self-dissection
Clutch at grume your bowels with half-eaten grubby stumps
out the repugnant meal in grotesque tumescent clumps

Remaining fingers prying off your gouged out gums
Gnaw at your stringy cheek and masticate your insatiable tongue
But the you ingest in carnivorous abandon
Fall out of the gaping that you have torn in your

Gnash the from your avulsed face in a frenzied rush
No genitals, no feet, no legs, no appendage left
Half-eaten oozes spittle down your face, your hunger
Undiminished, only your partially devoured innards
Prolapse will this meal at be finished

gluttony
Culinary pathology, butchery
Consuming
Excrete your to be