Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Waxwork, artist - Exhumed. Album song Anatomy Is Destiny / Live In Japan, in the genre Date of issue: 22.07.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Relapse
Song language: English
Waxwork |
| In my waxen world, time stands still |
| Forever frozen like flies trapped in amber |
| One perfect moment preserved, just ere the kill |
| Gruesome atrocities transfixed in horror’s chamber |
| Poetry without motion, figures stranded midstream |
| Waxen players in this dark drama of the macabre |
| Mouths agape with terror but breathless to scream |
| No death rattle heard, nor parting sors… |
| I am preserver of life through my morbid art |
| For each mannequin was truly alive from the start |
| So if the eyes seem to follow your gaze as you gawk |
| Know that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you walk… |
| Cadavers molded in wax as their lives buried away |
| More preening puppets to perform in the scenes that I play |
| Features cast in the moment of dying preserved |
| How they screamed as they met with their fates well deserved… |
| WAXWORK |
| Recreating the horror of the moment of death |
| My models serve their purpose quite well |
| Embalm their bodies in wax, capture their dying breath |
| Drain the fluids to stave off the smell |
| Like dolls that dance to their own funeral dirge |
| They play out their death scenes interminably |
| As prized their exhibits in my dark reserve |
| They unfold their secrets only to me |
| Life eternal in wax was their death’s decree |
| Suffering for my art, they surrendered to me |
| So when their eyes lock with your gaze |
| Look unflinchingly at death or turn away fast… |
| Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed away |
| Another preserved puppet to prance on the strings that I play |
| The fear ensnared in their captive countenances I’ve trapped |
| Mummified and memorialised in wax well-woven and wrapped… |
| WAXWORK |
| So sit still in your place at the end of the blade |
| By my design, death’s hand find you just out of reach |
| Another player in this deathly silent world that I have made |
| Devoid of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speech |
| Awaiting a terminus that never will come |
| You’re a marionette bound by my strings |
| Trussed in this tomb of wax, your time here is not done |
| For time does not quite end all things… |
| This is my life’s work, this still, silent place |
| A monument to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen face |
| Take care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you do |
| When you look deep into death, it sees back into you too… |
| Flesh bubbled and scalded, as this molten bath washed life away |
| Wax covered my still-screaming prey |
| Another piece for my prizing, recast in my mold |
| Features harden and set as the wax grows stiff and cold… |
| WAXWORK |