Welcome into this realm of mine of sickness and decease Embrace the embryonic state of mind and body free From all the many legions now feeding on the dead Though torn asunder in the fire They all call for the saw And now you’re better off dead A sweet dark fire that burns in the pyres of hell Exhumed, consumed and fuel for those Who aim to hack and slash me down from head to toe This burning pyre is but a tad better than the true foe I’d like to whip your ass and whip it good Good ol’ fashioned human stew That will once it’s served Serve as another mocking bird That lies and abides to the order of unwritten laws The pecking of the one born deviant and easily detected spawn Accepted not for that which isn’t clad in fat Bigoted funded keel hauling parades Never ever questioned until now For now you’re better off dead There’s a sweet dark fire that burns in the pyres of hell Oh how I wish I’d say I dream of you Consumed in flames but every night But I don’t, I simply don’t care if you die And if it comes down to believing in hell Well, I for one don’t have a soul to sell This tub of lard – begotten sod Another one to wage the war More than a harmless relic from an ancient time A laughing matter as tides change in the dark But to know where you’re heading Just look where you came from Great hate instigator And now you’re better off dead We will all end up there deep below So don’t fret and never repent Forgot as nothing in the scheme of things And though to close the book would be the honest thing to do Still he lurks in the shadows a threat to the one… Basher You call me devil – your aim’s set Basher A prompt fast answer for the dead eyed Basher Askewed viewed ghoul ”Gud som haver barnen kär Se till mig som tretton är Och som vart på rockkonsert Fula gubbar på en scen Rått kött käkar dom och ben Vrålar som besatt om sex Om hur djurets lustar väcks Men jag fattar inget alls När svärdet klyver flickans hals Det står ej i lukas brevet Att dom har sågklingor i skrevet Vart jag mig i världen vänder Blodet syns från deras händer Så Gud genom 1000 watt Hjälp mig nu när det blir natt”

It’s the day of the beast And the final dish at the feast Has just been served and eaten And now it’s time for my speech Though a man of science Whose anatomy shouldn’t work I’m a man of few words without lips But with tongue in cheek and shining bones This is the age of the mass population The indoctrination of a herd unheard Who spent too much time whining about… Satan! Now you got your wish Your meet and greet with Satan! What kind of a job is this for a skeleton anyway? Hauling drunken ass fat hypocrites To the halls of the dreaming dead Oh well I guess it isn’t that bad in hell When you don’t think of it in terms of wages There are perks of the trade As a henchman of the dead As a collector of all things that perish I get to take your last breath! Satan! Now you got your wish Your meet and greet with Satan! And as the feast is at an end I chime the bell for those I send Back to the shore of unsure reality With Satan! El Giftus Satanus! The gift that keeps on giving Whether you’re dead whether you’re living El Giftus Satanus! Never wrapped never topped with a bow But hidden torn asunder ‘neath the snow Now you got your wish Your meet and greet in the fire Now you got your wish Your meet and greet with the devil! …With Satan!

So what’s the going price of all the bones Hiding in the back of the closet? And how come you’re so bent On pushing for the end of the world Every time there’s a chance for it? There is nothing to the trick of using gullibility Of a rapture fixed to date So when the time comes You’re just gonna postpone everything anyway Yet again Didn’t you hear the puppets? Demons are coming to rape our skulls! And now the counting of our days has begun So you figure yourself quite the little bugger In the butchers well kept keep when in honest truth You’re just another one of his blunt blades Far too dull to cause bleeding It would be – all along A puppeteer who deceives You to believe you are indubitably Just a fool marked by the beast When fed to the Warmachine War merchant, trader, ill fated tyrant Unarmed to the teeth in a Warmachine N-n-n-n-n-n-Necrostabbing the C-c-Corpsefinder N-n-n-n-n-n-Necrostabbing the C-c-Corpsefinder Soothsaying son of a gun Fed to the Warmachine Who sees the answer in an ultimate Proprietor of Death as a Warmachine Once nailed to a piece of wood Now at the helm of a Warmachine If to believe is to be saved Then why are true believers fed to the Warmachine? N-n-n-n-n-n-Necrostabbing the C-c-Corpsefinder N-n-n-n-n-n-Necrostabbing the C-c-Corpsefinder A-na-na-nother bulletin of doom – Another fight Yet another pamphlet death Marauder The one who just can’t tell the time When encrypted in poor predicted rhymes See them signs see no Way out of this alive Saving gracing in the sun Where the lion and the lamb bites the gun! Necrostabbing the corpsefinder! The corpsefinder The corpsefinder The cordsefinder So what’s the going price all the bones hiding in the back of the closet? Peaking out when you least expect ‘em to dwell on the past And when the last stone has been cast God says to get what you deserve Get what you pray for and not what you earn If you’re at loss at the end of the day Just tug up your sleeves and do a better prayer And now the counting of our days has begun

You need to pour me another one I need fluid, need the thirst to come undone Blood gushing from my bowels and thru my veins Come tomorrow it’ll all be the same Hair of the dog that should’ve been mine is dead now It’s a good mans way to get by Keeps me awake – It keeps me alive Guts turning pushing toxins Festering bubbles of doom When the machine of total intesticide runs It runs on the heir of the dog Great bloodbarf of the hog It’s the only way to get by If by chance you’re just as thirsty as I Carve up another one – Serve me when I’m done And for the poured I’ll raise yet another mug Full to the brim – The fuel to power the lust Avoid total dehydration Hair of the dog that bit me It’s the heir of the dog that bit me You need to pour me another one You need to make sure I won’t dry You need to boldly offer me anything Whether I’ll crawl or still stand tall

Solitary slithering thru the annals of the past Little peace in little leagues when succubus-ting my ass off Trying to pretend I understand Trying to defend that view That’ll never make sense Never be that of my own tongue I could never rise up I could never be comprehending the fact That the ways of the leech Were never meant for the likes of me When existence is torn between living or Dying for soul celibacy Consuming, concluding a need to align And warmth of embracing consumption is wise When weekends pass swiftly and weekdays does not You’re caught in a trench of a lifeless unending rot There’s another fluke today There’s another trend that will send Just another sad soul to make his amends There’s another hole to fill There’s another pit There is always someone content feeding at the foot of the hill Predicament isn’t it? A birth of whoredom thru boredom When the day belongs to the dull The verdict rules to cull If by chance you’re prepared to be served A big steaming pile of nothing from a murder of crows As unyielding as the rise of the undead Then in masses come gather – It’s time you are fed! Obey! And start carving away Piece by piece …this mission can’t fail It’s of fabric begotten and plagued by mere ills A testament for grinding them bones for meager thrills Crossed and pissed and fully devoured Crossed and pissed and fully devoured Crossed and pissed and somewhat deflowered

Word wielder of truth and great renown The spitting image of a thousandfold denial Are you waging warfare here By the ashes n bones of what you see? See… the sacrilege isn’t you digging the soil But the exhibit – over used and abused By the little ones who all claim the throne With a cruel tool that tears the rift apart And now by the sign of the certain sacrifice Little crooked bad beings with envious eyes Are finding their serpent souls In the shallow certified throes Of those to come undone All revel in the flesh so freshly cut From all them bare bones barely bought Still ripped and taught by the true fire Crossed and pissed and devoured The “menace” roars The “menace” cries Adrift together in tantric fires From an age gone sour Devoured in an instant and final hour Oh to be the one when the time has come To usurp that rule – Have you undone! True to those of callous souls Are you all but born to what’s foretold In old parental tomes? Torn in unopposed gullible homes Another one cloaked in predated attire Secondhand smoking in the fire Turning tricks that sticks to well Practiced grand designs Mimic and shadow of the great divide Come! I’ll lead you thru this cleansing fire And if not for what’s inside that mine At least to track down the crooks Bent on pantomime A fine day for a cleansing of the lines A fine day celebrating in the dark The grand theology The day that cannot be Belied – Derived from tides of ruthless pantomime Go forth thru blood and fire Knee deep, never tire Be warned, deformed old relics of Everscorned So mimic of the great divide… I’ll lead you thru this cleansing fire

Three ungrateful swine who drinks the wine Someone harvested in summertime Are off to sip the juice straight from the vine And to cut the fruit from the pie But to conceal nothing’s naïve in kind Repaid in bundle and gutted blind And so the trap is set – the son of Seth Will slither into dull lullabies Karma’s just another bitch Born and bred upon the illwill of some Malignant sign – like a star in the sky! Baby Jee and the 3 stalkers in the night They came they saw they conquered all The shit the flies the mud and straw Goddamn the god who this infant spawned Now it’s high time to enslave them all And since she got away scot free with all the crap With who in fact put the child ‘neath her skin and fat Not for fame nor famine they concocted plans They all did it for a laugh! So sully the name whenever you will They all blamed the ass when the donkey was killed Now the fat of the land – The lard of god Is a bible belt bursting upon A hell belly full of wrath Concocted aftermath Of a super silent God Baby Jee and the 3 stalkers in the night Came, saw, conquered all The waste and flies and mud and straw And damned deed of the silent seeking servants of the spawn It should’ve been the best plan no one ever had But in a land of sand where Arabs run mad This tale was all but a taste of what’s to come With the slaughter as mortar Brick by brick to build the order A ghost from the past A son, a father and a cast The birth of a new age Born from rage Fee, fi, foe, fum And by the pricking of my thumbs Something wicked on donkey back This was comes! Beware the flying starchild for when in Rome The slaughter commenced in the manner known well To a child raised by an old vicious tome In a damp hole of a home So sully the name whenever you will Who can blame the ass who remains alive still And after all it should’ve been known It wasn’t even close to be real Baby Jee and the 3 stalkers learned too well today That nothing’s in the way When a foe keeps twisting words you say Into prayers gone astray

When the great Gods of the Olympus rose And men gathered to celebrate those Who never change but who held the reins All the nations stooped and never cared Never had guts to spare King of the Red – The bearded dead Summon the hordes in boots of led With bolted doors then off to war They will forgive in the end, after all it’s for The rise of another Reich – Hailed and glorified Yet now, when the game is over The world is yet again Astute and able to view with opened eyes And to condemn them faraway everyday crimes Put ’im in the box – This Russian fox With furry chest and gun and ship him off To hunt the lost Hiding ‘neath the rainbow There he will find an answer Only he is looking for! King of the Red – The bearded dead Must stash his mustache – And shoot ‘em dead With bolted doors then off to war In the shadow of a self made idiot born From underneath a wishful thinking Of a third world war While pencil pushing at the borders of the law Now praise the host and raise the cup In the name of the Gods this will never ever stop Hail! Hail! The King of the Red Hail! Hail! The King of the Red King of the Red! Siberia will await the fox Open armed to welcome the defender of imperial arts King of the Red! This pale war mongerer Hellbent on walking in the worn torn footsteps of the… …dead Kings of the Red

Now that this séance of mimics’s well on the way Them purdy girls hellbent to play A game of keeping hell at bay But at a prize never worth the pay Well the monkey see and monkey do Posing, sobbing martyrs tossing stool Inhaling all this potent fuel Still the essence’s lost in seductive rule It Came from the Brain! It spawned but wouldn’t slay – Both deaf and dumb Why they came in the first place it just couldn’t say It Came from the Brain! And so the sickling rides this train of thought Derived derailed and cheaply bought And while them tits ‘n’ ass still rue the day There’s still a price I refuse to pay See this slaughter of all is nothing more Then but an insult born and delivered whole To the likes of me and you living for This fire scoldering the burning soul It Came from the Brain! It spawned but wouldn’t slay Another whim born – Born From the boredom of a brain! It Came from the Brain! There below, there in the afterglow There’s a horned little fella left in the cold With a mind bent to defile the blind Now get a sweater and crawl back here Between the spinal cortex and some of the thoughts today He’s the benevolent worm thinking words on which I prey It came from the brain! Never mind learning the tools of trade From head to toe in black leather today But with the skin to show to prove you’re not effeminate in any way War painted succubus seductive and horrific tart Infesting invocating hate within the realms of unrelenting art

Gullible gluttony Consumes the evolution while peddling, Bartering unending supplies of lies And the all-knowing moron Feeding gladly on the farce That’s all essentially just make-believe of man Saintified – A vile cancer infecting the whole And the cure is the poison that’s free to the soul! Slick as sin – sweet suicide Now that it’s time to revive the contemplating of patricide Yet again – another one dead Found headlong in the rectory The sick and old are the last to know And always first to go Is there no one here to claim the price Of a septic death of own device? When one simple silver coin would suffice Now what if you were already dead? Not born from nothing to the inbred line of your ilk In rhyme and reason never torn, bereft of wit and scorned Patriarch of the damned …Now there’s a demon in the midst How dear its’ death would be to me And to all of the human breed But Ha! No… It begs me for just another dime Another silver coin for everlasting afterlife That so in the event of war Raging from shore to shore My soul thanks to your wealth Is to be safely cured The book of old First come first serve in the pyre of a virgin birth Now to pay your dues, to pay your toll For living in this hole of a home Where to weigh the weight of your soul Is but to carry the weight on own Man’s defeat alone Here in Rome wrinkled old gnomes Carve their way thru moldy old tomes And now to bury the bone First come first serve in the pyre of unholy worth And so you squabble in your church Keep asking God to be the first To turn the other cheek To practice what you preach You’re bound by crimes to canonize the wise When born never having a choice in life A nude dude on a cross seems nice Seems better in the dark and the cold And when you seek to atone for growing old One thousand years will pass you by I promise you will still be dead rotting in the ground But skin and bones, with our without God So true ignorance is bliss It seems to cut and never miss When the flesh is mushy and the skin is thin It cuts deeper to pull you in So… what about to plug the “but” And store some feces for the lot See you’re the best at own behest A crude malignant carven cyst None here will wield the rod? None here will stand and walk the walk A Golgotha for all, when barking mad I precede the fall