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CARCASS LYRICS

1. Inpropagation


[Music: Owen, Steer]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Speech:]
"A body is committed to a public mortuary. Any victim of sudden or
unexpected death will be brought here for a post-mortem by a pathologist;
their job is to establish the cause of death. But sometimes a body is
unrecognizable. Then it is vital, especially if murder is suspected, to
establish identity..."

Insipid fumes bellow from the atrabilious chimney
Whilst in the sanctified crevet I calmly pillage and rake
For hot dry powdered human slag
Still steaming in the crematorium's grate

Bio-organic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates
For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate

Your mortal mechanism dies - in nutrients rich
In the hallowed turf you lie - just for the taking

Charred sinew's as good as lime, no phosphates do I need
Deteriorated flesh used as top-soil, to replenish and nourish seed
Spreading this human potash, as ash matured
Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead...for use as manure...

Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed

[Lead fills: Dust in the mausoleum by W.G. Steer]

Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns
Every morsel that glows like ember on the fire
Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch
These charred chassis desired

Exequiet rites now performed, a coronach sooting up the flu
Enter my execrable inferno, even in the after-life there's work to do

The nitrogen content's high - but the flesh is weak
At the graveside mourners cry - you're never to wake again

[Lead: Compost humous horticulture by M. Amott]

Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed
Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plant-feed
Ploughing this abhorrent human manure
Seeding my rich harvest, bring out your dead...for the soils to devour...

Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed
And there's still no rest for the dead

[Lead: Humanure by W.G. Steer]

I propagate - dust in the grate
Ashes to ashes - dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops
Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture with active fertile rot

Incumbent - latent calories are spent

Ashes to ashes - dust to dust renewing the land with corpses corrupt
Mortuary scrapings, hearses a must, to the hot hearth the deceased are trussed

Harvesting the defouled, to fertilize my soil
Rejuvenating the spent with my fecundate spoils...

Reaping the gone, to nourish the land
Replenishing exhausted pasture with my uncanny sleight of hand
Restoring the unnatural balance, sowing my seed
Defalcating the departed, I rapt and glean...

So I recite my contrite lament, lacrimation for the dead
Their rest which I disturb...
Where should stand row upon row of cold grey remembrance stones
My cash crops now grow...


2. Corporal Jigsore Quandary


[Music: Steer, Owen, Amott]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Speech:]
"Identifying the bodies which are decomposed, dismembered, skeletonised pose
very serious problems. We've had many cases in this department where a body
has been found in pieces, or decomposed, and we've been able to put things
together. Yes, the head, the upper part of the body, in a very badly
decomposed state..."

Excised and anatomised, deviscerated disarray
The torso diverged with pride
Deftly amputated, evulsed limbs now defunct
The trunk imbrued, tatty stumps used as lugs
For a chondrin puzzle so quaint
Head and body decollate
A heaving mass so quiescent...

Scattered and scrambled, your teasement grows
- A bloody caricature to make whole
A squirming grisly jigsaw, detrital fragments fit so snug
- That missing piece will leave you stumped
Totally desassembled, nicely sliced and diced
- A cold mannequin once resembled
Real cranium teaser, carved from flesh and bone
- So mystifying...

Battered and diffused, with placating blows
- A human jigsaw to make whole
A sequacious pattern which once fitted so snug
- Joining together each dubious lump
Ravaged disassembly, neatly cubed and diced
- A cold mannequin reassembled
Astute brain teaser, incorporate flesh and bone
So mortifying...

An incessant game - methodically made
With each cumulative piecing - of commensated meat...

Bi-manual reconstruction, eldritch problem complete
A convented effigy
A pathological toy, each chunk rigorously
Inter mortis locking, as you pathogenically rot
Such a perplexing task
To fit the remains in the casket
Uliginous mess so quiescent...

[Lead: Human Jigsaw by W.G. Steer]
[Lead: A heaving organic puzzle by M. Amott]

An incessant game - methodically made
With each cumulative piece - of commensated meat...


3. Symposium Of Sickness


[Music: Owen]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Speech:]
"That's why I find it so amusing that the latter-day saints of our
business... one, attribute to me motives that just weren't there, and two,
accuse me of corrupting morality, which I wish I had the power to do.
Prepare to die."

An encloaking, dark epoch
In which all life is now appraised
Another valueless commodity
On which the paracious may feebly graze
Indebted homage to their mammon
Whilst the mort is the music of the meek
Transcendence from a beatifully brutal reality
Is what I seek...

Noxious, sully dolour
Is not the sentiment upon which we feed
But precocious consciousness
Draws out a morbid nous to bleed
Chiselling out seething words
Which cut deep down to the bone
Always legible
So be it on our own headstone...

[Lead trem: Necrononism by M. Amott]

Rising to out own nadir
Reality we try to extirpate
Trying to raise a twisted smile
Similar to that silver plate
On a coffin which is joined
Hammering in each final nail
Last kill and testament
Left now intestate...

Noxious, sully dolour
Is not the thesis which is bled
A precarious train of thought
In which mental cattle-trucks are led
Carving out skilful words
Which shear brittle bones
Always spelt out well
We just can't leave the dead alone...

Monographic text
A terminal doctrine of diseased minds perplexed
Enunciated epigrams
Eschatological, rotten requiems

Always our own worst cynics
Exorcisers of scorching scorn
Digging our own graves
But never stand over and mourn
The roulade now pandemonium
Displaced in the muggy sods
Espoused with the macabre
The dead we filch and rob...

...Munificant bale...
...From the deviants staid...

Execrations - taunting spiritual release
Exoneration - upon the perishable we feast
Excogitation - picking at the bones of convention
Exculpitation - foul verbal conflagration...

Epigraphic text, a literary vex
The macabre perplexed, with corporeality meshed

[Lead: Eschatological excavation by W.G. Steer]

Euthenic text
An unpleasant journey, to a world perplexed
Corporeal epigraphs
Eschatological unpleasantness

Always forever cryptic
Exercisers of twisted grief
Helping you to dig up the interred
Whilst fresh still are the wreaths
The harmony now pandemonium
Heard out in the muddy dirt
Espoused with the bizzare
We play on our own turf...

...Epithetic text...
...A macabre rality perplexed...

Execrations - literary tales of atrocities fairy
Exoneration - harsh, cold bloody marys
Excogitation - a narcissistic eutechnique
Exculpitation - perverse artworks, so unique...

Monographic text, a literary vex
The macabre perplexed, with reality meshed...

[Lead: Corpsereality by M. Amott]
[Lead: Cold logistic language by W.G. Steer]


4. Pedigree Butchery


[Music: Steer]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Speech:]
"Oh my God! What are these? You can hear people puking... They're dog meat!"

[Lead: Gutted, hashed and deboned by W.G. Steer]
[Lead: Prepared on the slab by M. Amott]

In caustic butchery I parent my dominion
In the food chain I create the missing link
Cold temerity confects this splintered for age
Infantile corruption taken to the brink...

Making hash of the spumous crubescent
All natural compassion removed
The newly fully developed boiled as sprouted fodder
Martilinear murder - cordon bleu

As salubrious pet food
Human midden is consumed...

Not one to mince my words
But now I love to see those siblings churned
In tins they are reared

Ghastly I slake
Bestial appetites to sate
As flesh and steel I mate
To fill the lower species' plate...

Desparental, primparal goods oozing
The bawling, squabbling denied the suckling teat
Sentient bloodletting sprains the sporulate
Makes a choice chimerical treat...

Rheological, twisted nursery chymes
The fluxing of the defleshed
Paedophilosophical, carnage knowledge
As the illegitimeat to the domesticated is fed

So as you breed
They will bleed...

Contumely calorie count
Ebullient death toll mounts
- Higher and higher...

[Lead: Choicest, prime cuts by M. Amott]
[Lead: Firm, meaty chunks by W.G. Steer]

Despumation the midden, the desipient I segment
Pertaining vitality, their dispatch I cement
Served out for minion in their feeding trough...


5. Incarnated Solvent Abuse


[Music: Amott, Steer]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Speech:]
"If visible identification is not possible, the pathologist may be able to
take fingerprints from the body until decay sets in... things become more
complicated."

Intenacious, intersecting
Reaving fats from corporal griskin
Culled...for sodden gelatine brayed
Skeletal groats triturated, desinently
Exsiccated, sere glutenate brewed
For frivolous solvent abuse...

Derogate coarse remains
For glue to dry
Despoiled marrow razed

...A truculent shambles so severe...

Extravated bone - as adhesive incarnate
A pellucid quietus - nocuosly I create

Corporal glue, breathe in the fumes
Mucilage vapours, toxic fumes to savour

[Lead: Glue stiffing by W.G. Steer]

Comminuted remains
As gum to dry
A lissom gel so glazed

...A truculent shambolic affair...

The exsanguine esprit - shorted as snuff
Rheumic oils forever - Bonded together as gum

Human glue, choke on the fumes
Noxious vapours, slaughterous labour...

[Lead: Viscous residue snorting by M. Amott]


6. Carneous Cacoffiny


[Music: Steer]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Speech:]
"Human remains in a beaker and tray and coffee pot. Bones which were being
partly macerated, dissolved, in a margarine container which had engine
coolant in it. It smelled very awful."

Striking up my discordant underture
A carnal cacophony perversely penned
Transposed...and decomposed
On strings fashioned from human twine
Lovingly wound and fretted upon my bow
Garishly incarcerated...the dead resonate
In a final death-throe

Vibrant as I thresh...
Movements scripted for the dead...

Orchestral horrors I vehemently conduct
My corpus concertos cordial
Disinterred... and detuned
With six feet below
In harmony with the deceased
My inspiration...your disintegration
For my latest masterpiece

My scope creeps your flesh...
Notes seep from sinewy frets...

But don't hold your breath
As you wait for your god or the void
Or the abyss of nothingness
Your usefulness isn't through
Your productivity I resume...

My sorbid, soiled handicrafts
Will be your afterlife's handicap....

...My corrupt crescendos...
...Will leave you out on a limbo...
...Your disposition I unleash...
...You will rest in my piece...

With deadly dynamics
You're dead, buried and barred
Your remains dampened and fingered
Your mortal coil is barbed
The death-bells are peeling
Ringing out as you flake
Shrieking out their recitals
A celebration of your wake...

Enter my funereality
My world two metres under
A curious habitat
Your muddy trench I plunder
Pass on to ethereality
Churned out under the sextant's blade
You live your life in wretchedness
And death is no escape...

[Lead: The ascent to eternal pandemonium and tabulature by W.G. Steer]


7. Lavaging Expectorate Of Lysergide Composition


[Music: Steer]
[Lyrics: Walker]

[Lead: Administration of toxic compounds by M. Amott]

Officinal - immiscible compounds are mixed,
A gagging expectorate, of lysergic acids,
Premensely emerced, consciousness slowly sips,
Peculated, in an ebriat(i?)ng narcocis...

...Cataleptic,
Imbibe...neurotripsick...

[Leads: Gross disorientation by W.G. Steer]

Neurally numbed, a narcosis so trans-lucid,
So pernicious, halluciagenics,
Procreating, ocular contorting,
Your idiosyncrassy, is now expropriated...

...Extirpation,
Mind...termination...


8. Forensic Clinicism / The Sanguine Article


[Music: Steer]
[Lyrics: Walker]

Salutiferous exaltation, through fusty spatterings I sift,
Cauterizing proud flesh, pyogenic cortex I just yearn to rip,
With impalpable, cathartic tools, dilapidated lusts I gratify,
Cold premediated surgery, in my calculated surgery I hold your fragile life...

Pultacious...
Pugnacious...
Pernicious...
Acro-idiopathic...

Artificially concussed, excavating to your gastric core,
Patulous, deep wounds, cascading and crimson as I explore,
Master at my bloody art, I like to carve sculpture and maim,
Mounted on the freezer's geurney, you're exhibited until you enter into decay...

Pultacious...
Pugnacious...
Delicious...
Gastric-idiopathology...

Welcome to my theatre, the stage upon which I act,
Turning into a sumptuous perfomance, heiniously I hew and gash,
Churning out a deep gulch, the incision a major nick,
A quick toke of nitrous oxide is how I get my kicks...

Expurgating healthy tissue, opulent flesh I slit,
Costate cuts expunged as the patient I now fillet,
Malpractising and mussing, carnage hyperventilates,
Self placebonic, the only is operate...

The recumbent are my prey - under my genital blade,
Your precordium I brutally plunder - whilst you're put under

Exanguinating - you're totally parched,
Exenterating - removing body parts,
Wholly abraded - Surgically maimed,
Decortication - Medically slain

Contaminating, infacting, how I love to cough and sneeze,
On the carneous culture, to cause bacteria to breed,
Anaesthetised, paralysed, a clinical stupor is induced,
With callous dexterity your bodily mass is reduced...

I extract the gullet - to end up in my bucket,
A quick flick of my wrist - and I'll be struck off the list

Exanguinating - straigh from the heart,
Exenterating - with my lancet so sharp,
Anatomically - my surgery maims,
Decortication - by the clinically deranged

Gross misconduct, I make the choicest cuts,
Text book stabs, written on your tag...

Wheeled away after a medical mishap,
In a polythene bag your body is now wrapped...
The acute wound now sealed up,
The picture of ill-health, you're a bit cut up...



Michael Amott: Guitar, additional vocals
Ken Owen: Drums, additional vocals
Bill Steer: Guitar, vocals
Jeff Walker: Bass, vocals

Thanks to Enregistrement.Public for sending song's speeches.


Submits, comments, corrections are welcomed at webmaster@darklyrics.com


CARCASS LYRICS

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