Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Abortion

Care for a little

I was born with a birthmark of
Debris cast from the and Mother
A of bright slaughter, I spat in the waters
Of life ran slick from the stab wounds in her

Dub me Lord Abortion, the living
The bonesaw on the
On bitter night of giving head
A sharp rear entry, an in red
Lump in the throat, on my choke
The killing joke thin with breath

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

Aah! Nostalgia grows now times or ten
Within vice den called a soul
resurrection I dig deep to come again
The spasm of on a roll

I live the slow rape, the bucks fizz of Amyl Nitrate
Victims force fed their own face, stains upon the drape
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 Abacus
With labial rings and undone

Dub me Lord Abortion, the dead
The on the backseat
On bitter night of giving head
A sharp rear entry, an in red
in the throat, on my come choke
The killing joke worn with breath

Horror my diorama
A twelve so far psychodrama
Another chained I to harm Her
as well as out

A perverts inside the mask
I'm hard, blow my of cards
All turn up death, her starts
In brute vermilion

Now I through the hairline cracks
In sanity, best your back
Possessed with levering Hell's wide
Liberating to cut humanity slack

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

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

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

d'oeuvres eaten, I tucked her into
A coffin fit for the Queen of Spades
She went out like the light in my
Her face an of pearl, of ruby wine

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

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

The shadow sher they least
Expect my burning grasp to
The stranglehold, the arms
Seeking sweet with no holes barred

that my razors wrung
Midst her and seams undone
Sung at the top of punctured
I bite my tongue

Lest curses spat from primal
Freeze where angels, bare
Are to love, blood loss, despair
I weep, they stare
And stare, and stare, and stare, and stare, and