| All human life forms are piles
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| Of stinking, rotting bowels
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| You now have the choice to die
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| Or live and rot away
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| No chance of a painless death
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| The cancer is starting in your head
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| It spreads it’s seeds through your veins
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| You’ll suffer the most horrible pains
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| You feel it lowering down your back
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| Your fingers are starting to turn black
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| Although you are praying to your god
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| You will slowly start to rot
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| Rotting is the only way of life
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| The stench is of the pus of your wife
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| You are getting weaker every day
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| It won’t last a day is what they say
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| As your skin drips from your face
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| You’re a part of rotting human race
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| You know that it won’t last long
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| As you cough up pieces of lung
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| As your shit comes through your mouth
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| Your soul soon will go south
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| Rotting is the only way of life
|
| The stench is of the pus of your wife |