Excess Is A Lifestyle

I wake to the sea of bodies surrounding me
The last sunrise for those soon-to-be corpses
I lift my sleeping knife with glee
And carve smiles into their dying faces

I step outside to light up
My cigarette and their worthless bodies
Ive juiced their blood into my morning coffee cup
Now witness their dry shells burn like paper

Murder is the air I breathe
And my knife supplies me the pleasure I need
My fresh victims have almost expired
I need more dead, dead, dead
Excess is my lifestyle (and it keeps me sane)

I am beckoned by the afternoon sun
To feed my internal craving for blood
Watch your lips beg at the mercy of my gun
Your pathetic species are enslaved to my knees
Pray to me, your master, your God

Now once again the urge is screaming
For a babys diaphragm to soothe my throat
They entice my palate like puppies in a blender

Murder is the air I breathe
And my knife supplies me the pleasure I need
My fresh victims have almost expired
I need more dead, dead, dead
Excess is my lifestyle (to the flames you will be wed)

As the dawn breaks like a childs defenceless femur
I suck the rich marrow for strength
To rip off feeble phalanges
They dance on my eager tongue

Murder is the air I breathe
And my knife supplies me the pleasure I need
My tolerance for the living has expired
I need more dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead
I need more blood, bones, tears
Blood, bones, tears
Blood, bones, tears
Excess is my lifestyle (and it keeps me insane)