To Die For Lyrics
| Song | To Die For |
| Artist | Impaled |
| Album | Mondo Medicale |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| A liturgist in the realm of filth and gore | |
| Augean bard of æsculapian deviance | |
| Fables I've made, sick stories | |
| I've parlayed | |
| For the rapt attention of my heinous | |
| Despised rottrephile, the object of my infection | |
| A gore hound obsessed with the extreme and obscene | |
| In manic obesciance, | |
| I pledge my devotion | |
| Composing sonnets of horror for my ghoul fiend | |
| Penny dreadfuls are met apathetically | |
| Asomatous, they are mere words | |
| For a worthy offering | |
| I need tangible death | |
| The pen has proved fallible to the might of the swords | |
| For my Bathorial maiden, | |
| I'll kill and maim | |
| For our victims, the future proves bleak | |
| I'll slice throats in her bloody name | |
| Rending other's flesh that in me is so weak | |
| Excisions and slices and cuts to their integument | |
| My finesse with cutlery, she doth inspire | |
| Collecting a bouquet of offal, my regiment | |
| Trophies to admire | |
| Dislimbed torsos and severed craniums | |
| Disinterred innards and human chum | |
| Though I present this sanguine tribute | |
| It's never enough and still | |
| I'm rebuked | |
| A grandiose gesture, | |
| I require for a petulent madamned | |
| Gutted, my entrails will be preserved in canopic vials | |
| Formaldehyde and alcohol are meted into jars | |
| Lacerating extremities, a fitting end to these trials | |
| Incised omentum, avulsed intestines | |
| Abdominal evisceration, self-dissection | |
| Mellifluent gore is met with ennui | |
| My tragic reward is naught but death's kiss | |
| Consciousness falters as blood flows from my head | |
| Lay me down to die, nothing is better than this |
| A liturgist in the realm of filth and gore | |
| Augean bard of sculapian deviance | |
| Fables I' ve made, sick stories | |
| I' ve parlayed | |
| For the rapt attention of my heinous | |
| Despised rottrephile, the object of my infection | |
| A gore hound obsessed with the extreme and obscene | |
| In manic obesciance, | |
| I pledge my devotion | |
| Composing sonnets of horror for my ghoul fiend | |
| Penny dreadfuls are met apathetically | |
| Asomatous, they are mere words | |
| For a worthy offering | |
| I need tangible death | |
| The pen has proved fallible to the might of the swords | |
| For my Bathorial maiden, | |
| I' ll kill and maim | |
| For our victims, the future proves bleak | |
| I' ll slice throats in her bloody name | |
| Rending other' s flesh that in me is so weak | |
| Excisions and slices and cuts to their integument | |
| My finesse with cutlery, she doth inspire | |
| Collecting a bouquet of offal, my regiment | |
| Trophies to admire | |
| Dislimbed torsos and severed craniums | |
| Disinterred innards and human chum | |
| Though I present this sanguine tribute | |
| It' s never enough and still | |
| I' m rebuked | |
| A grandiose gesture, | |
| I require for a petulent madamned | |
| Gutted, my entrails will be preserved in canopic vials | |
| Formaldehyde and alcohol are meted into jars | |
| Lacerating extremities, a fitting end to these trials | |
| Incised omentum, avulsed intestines | |
| Abdominal evisceration, selfdissection | |
| Mellifluent gore is met with ennui | |
| My tragic reward is naught but death' s kiss | |
| Consciousness falters as blood flows from my head | |
| Lay me down to die, nothing is better than this |
| A liturgist in the realm of filth and gore | |
| Augean bard of sculapian deviance | |
| Fables I' ve made, sick stories | |
| I' ve parlayed | |
| For the rapt attention of my heinous | |
| Despised rottrephile, the object of my infection | |
| A gore hound obsessed with the extreme and obscene | |
| In manic obesciance, | |
| I pledge my devotion | |
| Composing sonnets of horror for my ghoul fiend | |
| Penny dreadfuls are met apathetically | |
| Asomatous, they are mere words | |
| For a worthy offering | |
| I need tangible death | |
| The pen has proved fallible to the might of the swords | |
| For my Bathorial maiden, | |
| I' ll kill and maim | |
| For our victims, the future proves bleak | |
| I' ll slice throats in her bloody name | |
| Rending other' s flesh that in me is so weak | |
| Excisions and slices and cuts to their integument | |
| My finesse with cutlery, she doth inspire | |
| Collecting a bouquet of offal, my regiment | |
| Trophies to admire | |
| Dislimbed torsos and severed craniums | |
| Disinterred innards and human chum | |
| Though I present this sanguine tribute | |
| It' s never enough and still | |
| I' m rebuked | |
| A grandiose gesture, | |
| I require for a petulent madamned | |
| Gutted, my entrails will be preserved in canopic vials | |
| Formaldehyde and alcohol are meted into jars | |
| Lacerating extremities, a fitting end to these trials | |
| Incised omentum, avulsed intestines | |
| Abdominal evisceration, selfdissection | |
| Mellifluent gore is met with ennui | |
| My tragic reward is naught but death' s kiss | |
| Consciousness falters as blood flows from my head | |
| Lay me down to die, nothing is better than this |
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