Exhumed
Deadest Of The Dead
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| Added 1 September 2011 user Iron Man |
Watch clip Deadest Of The Dead
Lyrics Deadest Of The Dead
In the deadest of nights I perform a graveside disservice, Disinhuming the
remains of those who I deem to deserve this, A corpse dead to rights will
undergo this rigorous trashing, Selecting the tomb of the poor stiff that
tonight I will be thrashing... Exhumed from the shelter of earth's dusty
embrace for a morbid curiosity, Then abruptly dismembered without
compunction, just pure feriocity... Consumed and left to welter, In shredded
entrails and long dessciated pus, Wiping the firt from my hands, As I walk
from the grave that I've trampled to dust... Caskets uprooted, mausoleums
stained red, Riding high six feet deep amongst the deadest of the dead, A
tombstone is the sole mute witness, To necro-attrocities as I endeavor to
split this... Corpse in half, stricken by my wrath, The carcass is maimed,
Cleft by pick-axe, halved, quartered and smashed, The gravesite's in flames,
Culled from the reams of obituaries deep in the cemetary, I torment the
entombed, The dead should be wary of the grudges I carry, Deep into the
gloom... Riding high six feet under, Inhale the stench of my nocturnal
remains of those who I deem to deserve this, A corpse dead to rights will
undergo this rigorous trashing, Selecting the tomb of the poor stiff that
tonight I will be thrashing... Exhumed from the shelter of earth's dusty
embrace for a morbid curiosity, Then abruptly dismembered without
compunction, just pure feriocity... Consumed and left to welter, In shredded
entrails and long dessciated pus, Wiping the firt from my hands, As I walk
from the grave that I've trampled to dust... Caskets uprooted, mausoleums
stained red, Riding high six feet deep amongst the deadest of the dead, A
tombstone is the sole mute witness, To necro-attrocities as I endeavor to
split this... Corpse in half, stricken by my wrath, The carcass is maimed,
Cleft by pick-axe, halved, quartered and smashed, The gravesite's in flames,
Culled from the reams of obituaries deep in the cemetary, I torment the
entombed, The dead should be wary of the grudges I carry, Deep into the
gloom... Riding high six feet under, Inhale the stench of my nocturnal
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