Текст песни Cryptopsy - Phobophile (None So Vile 1996)
In the kitchen
With a screaming triple amputee...
Its completion depends solely
On my needs...
Said amputee's stumps
Are my way of saying... "Thank you
Just for being you."
Its fear tastes better than its limbs
Terror of morality
I draw from the slowly dying damned
Monsters live behind my eyes;
I let them out and people die!
And all the grave worms
That come for their piece of meat?
I give them dead things..
The wretched living are mine alone
Fright mounts with the body count
To which anthropomancy predicts a decline
In all of God's creation
Can there be a lifestyle that's better than this?
I mark my territory
With their blood and excritement
And adipocere...
I can find my way in the dark;
My fulfilment is habitually necromanic
And anal abusive..
Seen through the eyes of a mortician
They've "caught" me, as they call it;
My teeth and my semen have betrayed me..
Nevermore!
Tests to gauge my rationale
The likes of which these feeble minds have
Never seen
Rorschach blotters
My responses to which inspire fear...
From my lizard side
The amoral alien speaks;
"These aren't butterflies
I see a face I'd like to burn."
Obfuscation
Of the authorities with lies
And my natural
Ability to charm and be me
Or whoever they want;
I've known all minds by divine right
