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EXHUMED LYRICS
"Indignities To The Dead" (1997 Split album)
1. Indignities to the Dead
2. Masterpieces
1. Indignities to the Dead
Plumbing the depths of the now vacant carcass
Degenerative processes now completed
Feeling through a miry, putrid pulp
Of organs which necrosis has thoroughly depleted...
Delving into the nether regions of necrology
I have disturbed and dismantled their graves
Collecting the putrefacted, liquefied remains
Into jars I have jealously saved...
The crumbling human waste that passes for a corpse
Is now a fetid pastime, in which I occasionally indulge
The embalming of rancid mortal sludge collect
A hobby not often divulged...
Perversely pursuing pathological profundity
But in the end I remain without comprehension
I find myself searching in an overturned crypt
Much to the tenants' ghastly apprehension...
But in that muddy sepulchre of rot and decrepitude
I find a brief solace from my woes and trepidation
With my hands caked with gore and face streaked with rotten grume
I come into a moment of vital realization...
In that beautiful moment of essential oneness
I ejaculate on the face of the stiff
I lose myself in the quagmire of rotten flesh
Inhaling the pungent rancid whiff...
Amongst festering putrefaction and moldy tissue and bone
At last I find my release
Vomiting on the genitals of the severely dead and gone
I sully and deride the deceased...
To relive the orgasmic sensation I crave
Time and time again I find myself led
To charnel houses and desecrated graves
To perform indignities to the dead...
2. Masterpieces
With meticulous precision, layers of vanity are flayed
The facade of human beauty now a frail husk
A gleaming vision of the human essence displayed...
Beyond the pretenses of aesthetic appraisal
Design and decomposition mesh
Each sanguine sinew and tendon lay revealed
Another world that lay beneath the flesh...
A study in still lifelessness
What has become of the deceased
From the death artist's bucket of blood
My latest masterpiece...
A ruddy complexion is the natural result
When the clotted blood congeals in the cheeks
Though my latest victim has not yet begun to decay
The escaping rectal vapor still reeks...
To transform a stiff into a work of art
Is a daunting task to undertake, I confess
Rearranging the broken limbs can be quite a chore
But hacking up innards arouses me best...
A study in still lifelessness
What has become of the deceased
From the death artist's bucket of blood
My latest masterpiece...
It was his fatal misfortune to consent to be my model
Though the end result was likely not as he preconceived
A hasty pulverization of the cranium left him senseless
And with a single incision of the throat, of his life he was relieved...
Viscous bodily excretions act to revitalize my empty canvas
A work in my preferred medium - that of the human carcass
Soon this macabre masterpiece will begin to decompose
Until then your mutilated cadaver strikes a lovely pose...
Forceps, pins and scalpels all come into play
As each layer of human dignity is crudely swept away
Barbed wire, entrails and sinews are skillfully intertwined
A half ransacked corpse in the store room left behind...
Skewered eyeballs and brain at last set in place
A leering putrid mockery of your once human face
Redefining aesthetic values with this visionary piece
Let art begin where life has ceased...
A study in still lifelessness
What has become of the deceased
From the death artist's bucket of blood
My latest masterpiece...
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