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Тексты (слова) песенСписок исполнителей в алфавитном порядкеА  Б В Г Д Е Ё Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Э Ю Я  A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Y Z  Текст (слова) песни: Impaled - Trocar[music - Leon del Muerte] [lyrics - Sean McGrath] Impacted tissue is riddled with clots Morbidly studying your gross anatomy Perinium is sullied with moldering pus A mass of gelatinized forensick liquidity Locating my trocar, the tool of my trade Emaciated fingers nimbly find what I need Desiring the gavage, I hastily optate Into your chest intercalated as your innards I bleed Muscle tissue rips, my needle drips Proceeding with my work, Im an insensitive jerk Acid from your stomach is disgorged with a splat Liquid offal gargles in your throat Embalming tubes occluded with clumps of rotting fat Decaying larval brine is force fed until you choke Impaled on a spike, internal organs are sucked Mellifluent gore by the buckets is drained Pernicious bilge is pumped from your gut Acidic bacteria now mangle your brain Lactating pus Eructating guts Decorticated stiff I take another sniff Macerated veins are with a trocar dislodged Playing host to my probe, your pelvis now sprays Abdominal saliva is splattered from your anus Lathering my needle, your ignominious remains Easing the point into delicate flesh Declension with steel is sublimely enmeshed Irrigated fluids cake the porcelain slab Methodically in-vaginated with bromidic scabs Pus, from your veins, is tapped A bloody awful mess, your corpse is bloodless Lancinated gore is sapped Exenterated sot, your withered cadaver will rot Decaying on the slab I take another stab [solo: "The Morticians Sword" by L.d. Muerte] [solo: "Lachrimose Germentation" by S.C. McGrath] Muscles are imbued with a gelatinous mix Prepatent secretions from your bowel make me sick A redolent mephitis maturates in the guts Laughing at your humor as it seeps from the cuts Ensmultified with larvae, your carcass is replete Drawn and quarted in a morgue as innards I delete Ichor is liquesced and from veins gladly pumped My nocturnal vocation has my colleagues quite stumped Packed in a coffin full of salt An acrid scent seeps from the box Lye is applied as the earth is fed Ensconced in a tomb, for you are quite Dead |
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