[00:00.00] 作曲 : The Black Dahlia Murder[00:19.11]The sound of vomiting to my ears like singing[00:20.04]now I am beginning to become erect[00:23.22]with illness I am obsessed in the beds of the fallen I rest[00:25.23]a fixation amplified the smell here is what I like best[00:29.79]feverishly combing the buckets of waste[00:31.41]wrapping myself in the filth-ridden sheets[00:34.83]raping the shells of the comatose[00:35.49]to fulfill my needs[00:41.43]photographing bedsores cultured by my sick neglect[00:49.23]it's more than a job it's a love for me to walk this close with death[00:59.07]when you hear a flat line you know surely I'll be near[01:06.48]to when the reaper's sickle is drawn I am ever aware[01:15.33]I wish I could pull these strings[01:26.37]in death there are finer things[01:36.39]malpractice forever be my bitter name[01:39.15]how quickly life does fade away[01:56.43]but a flip of the river mans coin[01:57.15]could send you screaming to your grave[01:57.90]grief stricken family watches on ceaseless prayers for an only son[02:00.09]"I'm afraid that nothing can be done" his moment has finally come[02:03.54]the wrath of a god exemplified to the pearly gates he'll soon arrive[02:07.17]to leave here his husk in this room of white I'm quivering at thought[02:09.96]pull the plug (I'm begging you) take the ride (to the cold and blue)[02:16.62]the reapers yellowed lichen fingers aims ever so true[02:22.89]the orgins of disease I have witnessed in my dreams[02:35.58]the flooding of the blackest blood to quench my fetid needs[02:37.05]I wish I could pull these strings[02:37.68]in death there are finer things[02:43.53]malpractice forever be my bitter name[02:50.55]I wish I could pull these strings[02:51.21]in death there are finer things