Abbreviated. Life. Expectancy. - Spumous Erubescent Death Тексты
Insipid fumes fromst the atrabilious chimney
Whilst in the sanctified crevet I pillage
For human slag
Still steaming in the crematorium's pyre
Bio-organic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates
For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate
Spumous erubescent death
Your mortal mechanism dies
In nutrients rich
In the hallowed turf you die
Charred sinew's as lime, no phosphates do I need
Deteriorated flesh as top-soil, to replenish and nourish
Spreading this human potash, as ash matured
Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead
For use as manure
Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed
And there's no rest for the dead
Spumous erubescent death
Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns
Every morsel that glows as embers on the fire
Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch
These charred chassis desired
Exquisite rites now performed, a coronary sooting up the flu
Enter my execrable inferno
The nitrogen content's high
But the flesh is weak
At the graveside mourners cry
You're never to wake again
Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed
Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plant-feed
Ploughing this abhorrent human manure
Seedling my rich harvest, bring out your dead
For the soils to devour
Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed
And there's still no rest for the dead
I propagate
Dust in the grate
Spumous Erubescent death
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops
Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture
Incumbent, latent calories are spent
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, renewing the land with corpses corrupt
Mortuary scrapings, hearses a must
Harvesting the defouled, to fertilise my soil
Rejuvenating the spent with my fecundate spoils
Reaping the gone, to nourish the land
Replenishing exhausted pasture with my uncanny sleight of hand
Restoring the unnatural balance, sowing my seed
Defalcating the departed, I rapt and glean
So I recite my contrite lament, lacrimation for the dead
Their rest which I disturb
Where should stand row upon row of cold grey remembrance stones
My cash crops now grow