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 Impetigo Impetigoрок-группа

I WORK FOR THE STREETCLEANER

I work for the streetcleaner

When the work day is done

I bring home some organs

For some late night necrophiliac fun...

I clean up the toll of the highway mishap

Blood and twisted steel are dnine

The gore in my hands will be smeared on my love

And the cadaver I carry will be mine

My lover and I are pathetic

Fellating the bones of the dead

Fornication with the remnants of the dismembered carcasses

Sodomizing the worm eaten head...

We bathe in the blood of the unlucky stiffs

Keep their eyes, tongues and brains in glass cases

Smear our naked writhing bodies in the grue and pus

Lick the rotted sinews from their mangled beaten faces

We are aroused and enticed, my lover and I,

By the sanguine stench of the deaceased

We writhe among piles of gelatinous dead flesh

And suck the hepatic tissue of the diseased

I'll procure the corpses 'til my storage shelves are full

I remove the fluids from your skull...



Jars of preservation fluids

Inhale the nauseating fumes

On the wall decaying

purulent corpses

Putrefying in my room...

I feel the clots on my face and skin

The carnage of the violently expelled

Masturbate with the blood of mutilated stiff

Explose with carnal joy among the entrails

Writhing an dwiggling in a bed full of death

My inhibitions existing no more

French kissing the skulls, the foetid breath

Making love to the cadaverous whore

We are psychotic, my lover and I

Only the sick couls share our delight

We take turns mounting the detestable stiff

Our moans continue through out the night...

The jellified skin running through my hands

The joy of arousal from the dead corpses touch

The necrotic thirst for unconcenable love

The love a corpse cannot give too much...

I'll procure the corpses 'til my storage shelves are full

I remove the fluids from your skull...



I work for the streetcleaner

And though it's never been said

It's fun to be paid

To dispose of the recently dead

The insane lust of the necrophile

A bizarre emotion that cannot be described

The thrill of violence and its horrible result

Creates an urge from which our sickness derives

Tonight we will indulge in forbidden delight

To quench our desires, it's what we must do

Beware if you drive on the highway tonight

The next cadaver we fuck might be you

Impetigo

I WORK FOR THE STREETCLEANER / Impetigo

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