| I work the graveyard shift, cadavers lay silently in wait
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| My utensils are ready to perform degrading autopsies
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| Through the sinews of dead flesh
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| And within the dried marrow of old bones
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| I have discovered the secrets of the dead
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| Mercilessly I pit out what the dead cannot hide
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| I become enlightened with a knowledge that makes me strong
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| A power I now possess launches me into the afterworld
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| Traveling paths in the innermost niches of putrefaction
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| I will become a god of suppuration in this dead domain
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| But to enter the putrid portal I must frantically carve
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| Tediously I labor over crude necropsies, bizarre necrotomy
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| My entire being soon liquefies as I cross over
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| I take on the form of foul cadaverine
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| Now through the perished, hardened veins I flow
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| Immersed into the deceased where no life resides
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| Except for wriggling fat white maggots filled with smegma and decay
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| Apparitions haunt the viscera, my presence they avoid
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| In terror they try so hard to hide
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| Disappearing into the offal of the btchered
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| When the dead go the way of all that is flesh
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| And the burdensome mortal coil is shaken off
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| Moving as I wish between the living and the dead
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| Carcasses are tenements for all spectral souls
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| An actual cosmos existing within a corpse
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| The morticians could not fathom what I see
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| Like a scalpel I cut my way through the necrosphere
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| Plunging into the deepest recesses of the carrion
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| They are unable to flee from my disembodied grasp
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| The dead scream as I infernally enslave them
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| Truly I am gifted, empowered with necromacy
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| Originating in dead matter makes me necrogenic
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| The interior decomposed membranes of the stiffs from a necrosphere
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| Which has always remained unseen by mortal eyes
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| Until I found the concealed secrets of the rot realm
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| Now I am divine, the dead now worship me
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| As if I am a god |