Feeding the fetor a new time
When I enter the shelves with my prey
Dripping with half a soul, weakening
They linger until the collapse of organism

When the body turned cold on the floor
It is time to perform the ritual
To experience their purification
I rip the entrails from their piss-mugs

Souls will have no possibilities to break off this fucking hell
They would get corroded and erased by the scant rotting air
Their hollow god has forsaken them, present is just their perish
No sign will ever get to the outside world were real amentia exists

Ripping, disembowel
Careful purification act
But the rest next the vitals will be modest morselled

Souls will have no possibilities to break off this fucking hell
They would get corroded and erased by the scant rotting air
Their hollow god has forsaken them, present is just their perish
No sign will ever get to the outside world were real amentia exists

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