Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Abortion

Care for a necrophilia

I was born with a of cinders
Debris cast the stars and Mother
A ring of slaughter, I spat in the waters
Of that ran slick from the stab wounds in her

Dub me Lord Abortion, the dead
The bonesaw on the
On this night of giving head
A rear entry, an exit in red
Lump in the throat, on my choke
The killing joke worn thin with

I grew up on the sluts bastard Father beat
Keepsake cunts cut full out easing through

Aah! Nostalgia grows now times or ten
Within this den called a soul
Dying I dig deep to come again
The of orgasm on a roll

I the slow serrated rape, the bucks fizz of Amyl Nitrate
Victims force fed their own face, tear stains upon the
I should them, to a warm Summer's day
But to the letter, it is better to liken their names to a

Counting my years on an strung
With labial rings and undone

Dub me Lord Abortion, the living
The bonesaw on the
On this night of giving head
A sharp entry, an exit in red
Lump in the throat, on my come
The killing joke worn thin with

Horror my diorama
A part so far psychodrama
chained I mean to harm Her
Inside as as out

A perverts gasp inside the
I'm hard, my house of cards
All turn up death, her bleeding
In brute parts

Now I slither through the cracks
In sanity, best watch back
Possessed with levering gates wide
Liberating knives to cut humanity

My ambition is to Anon
A sinner in the of a dirty God
Who lets me prey, a De Rais
Of light where faith leads astray

I slit guts and free the faces
Corrupt the corpse and seize the choicest
Her alabaster limbs that dim the lit carnal
Vaginal to later taste and masturbate within

My heart was a wardrum beat by Jugular cults in Eerie Jungle
When number thirteen fell in my lap lips and like sin
A Venus my appetite whetted, storm crows wheeled
At the blurred edges or reason till I was

Whores d'oeuvres eaten, I tucked her
A grave coffin fit for the Queen of
She went out the light in my mind
Her face an avalanche of pearl, of wine

Much was a flux, but the mouth once for fucks
Came from retirement to prove she had not her touch
I her viciously, maliciously, religiously
But when has one been to best separate the three?

I I'm sick as Dahmer did, but this is what I do
I'll let you sleep I am through, you fucking whore

The suspect shadow sher they
Expect my burning to reach
The stranglehold, the opened
Seeking sweet meat with no barred

Rainbows that my razors
her screams and seams undone
Sung at the top of punctured
I bite my spiteful

Lest spat from primal lairs
romance where angels, bare
Are to love, blood loss, despair
I weep, merely stare
And stare, and stare, and stare, and stare, and