Из альбома: Goremageddon: The Saw and the Carnage Done
A darkened room re-opening at the stroke of twelve
Grim cascades of light construct a blurry image
The fridge-cage opens serving a putrid stiff
Rusted will serve up the casual plat du jour
Heat up the stove, my banquet commence
Amputate limbs, Delicatesse in extremis
There is no taste, like human rosbeef, haute-cuisine
Savouring every chunk that slides down the esophague
Feasting on man I survive reluctant and digestive
Sanguine, my culinary addiction
Just doing my part in depopulation
Another day, another night to rob the morgue
Retrieving chunks to stew what i adore
Exhuming chunks to flavour the casserole
Im the grand chef brewfing a new brand of food
Feasting in man I survive, reluctant, and digstive
Your relatives, I shove down my throat
Feeding of hate, preying on man, cannibalism with a cause
Little lumps of meat - Adoring the flesh I eat
The dead no longer alone - In my belly to serve a better cause