Epicurean pathology
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Shattered gross anatomy
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Bodily fluids, foul and septic
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I sing the body decrepit
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Your funeral, my feast
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You'll never rest in peace
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Tagged, sectioned, then slabbed
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Slurp fluids from your body-bag
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Repulsive, jaundiced flesh - The stomach-turning sight, that I love best
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Necrosis setting in - Discolored, rotting, mottled skin
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The weevils writhe and squirm - Your torso now alive with worms
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As organs liquefy - I whet my abhorrent appetite
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Your funeral, my feast
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A masterstroke of rotting meat
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My dinner table's where you rest in piece
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Your funeral, my feast
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Gruesome garnish, moist carnage
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Raw bits of human garbage
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The chunks seep, they won't keep
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Gnashing through, as each piece bleeds
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Your decay, my entree
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I wouldn't have it any other way
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Maggot millet, stuffs your gullet
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To please my most deranged of palettes
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Splenetic, ghastly taste - The stinking savor of pathological waste
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Trypsin and Pepsin marinate - The loathsome bowels I masticate
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To dine upon this foul concoction - Requires a taste for extreme unction
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But for those who have the stomach - We sate our hunger on tripe and vomit
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Your funeral, my feast
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A masterstroke of rotting meat
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My dinner table's where you rest in piece
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Your funeral, my feast
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[Lead ? Matt]
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Your funeral, my feast
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-----------------
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Your Funeral, My Feast
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Exhumed |