Вершы:
Sick Symphonies

I don't know much, about this thing called love, but I'm willing to try. I don't know much about it either baby, but if you're willing, then so am I.

spawn Endo-parasites incubate in the warmth Mortician's implements to tap and bleed The swarming insects' seed... ...Lice and ticks...expel bloody sick

...Aborted gestation...foetal mutilation... ...Abortive secretions..embryonic fermentation... Your crotch spawning afterbirth A congealing sprog basted

Vilely I defile, chastise, humiliate Writhing, agonized as I violate to impregnate With lathering soaps and suds I slowly enemize Innards gurgulate as

Miasmic fungus infests the small intestine Vitriolic juices burn through the stomach wall Bursting carcinosis as chylase melts your guts Crepitating neoplasm

Festering scabs, papillae and pores Hardened carbuncles, spots and cold sores Pick at the scab, septic blood starts to weep Rip at my face, ruptured growths

[Solo: intumescence of pulverised piles] Wart-encrusted sebaceous growths Pustulating, bleeding piles are what I boast Scabby and blistered pectoral

Grimly I dig up the turfs To remove the corrupted stiffs Trying to contain my excitement As I desecrate graveolent crypts... Fingers claw at coffin lids

...Aborted gestation...foetal mutilation... ...Abortive secretions...embryonic fermentation... Your crotch spawning afterbirth A congealing sprog basted