Words: Phil Holland/Trevor Warner
Tormented soul feeling no hope.
Chooses an end death by a rope.
Neck snaps meat keeps body intact.
Defecation drips from this dead corpse.
Time has passed cadaver bloats.
Insects breed in the carcass.
Feasting from inside out. putrid stench fills the air.
Pity the souls that have to discover the human atrocity.
Legs and feet swollen with fluid.
Patches of black flash excretes.
Bloated cadaver falls to the ground.
Splatters on all those around.
Covered with fluid slowly they retch.
Overcome by the putrificaction stench.
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