Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Abortion

Care for a little

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

Dub me Lord Abortion, the living
The bonesaw on the
On this bitter night of giving
A rear entry, an exit in red
in the throat, on my come choke
The killing joke worn with breath

I grew up on the bastard Father beat blue
Keepsake cunts cut full out puberty through

Aah! Nostalgia grows now nine or ten
Within this den called a soul
Dying resurrection I dig deep to come
The spasm of orgasm on a

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

Counting my years on an Abacus
With labial rings and heartstrings

Dub me Lord Abortion, the living
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 joke worn thin with breath

Horror scopes my
A twelve so far psychodrama
Another chained I mean to Her
as well as out

A perverts gasp the mask
I'm hard, blow my of cards
All up death, her bleeding starts
In vermilion parts

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

My ambition is to slay
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 pieces
Her limbs that dim the lit carnal grin
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 or reason till I was fulfilled

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

was a flux, but the mouth once good for fucks
Came retirement to prove she had not lost her touch
I kissed her viciously, maliciously,
But when has one been able to best 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 sher they least
Expect my grasp to reach
The stranglehold, the arms
sweet meat with no holes barred

Rainbows that my razors
Midst her and seams undone
Sung at the top of lungs
I my spiteful tongue

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