Trocar Lyrics
| Song | Trocar |
| Artist | Impaled |
| Album | Dead Shall Dead Remain |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : McGrath | |
| Impacted tissue is riddled with clots | |
| Morbidly studying your gross anatomy | |
| Perinium is sullied with moldering pus | |
| A mass of gelatinized forensick liquidity | |
| Locating my trocar, the tool of my trade | |
| Emaciated fingers nimbly find what | |
| I need Desiring the gavage, | |
| I hastily optate | |
| Into your chest intercalated as your innards | |
| I bleed Muscle tissue rips, my needle drips | |
| Proceeding with my work, | |
| I'm an insensitive jerk | |
| Acid from your stomach is disgorged with a splat | |
| Liquid offal gargles in your throat | |
| Embalming tubes occluded with clumps of rotting fat | |
| Decaying larval brine is force fed until you choke | |
| Impaled on a spike, internal organs are sucked | |
| Mellifluent gore by the buckets is drained | |
| Pernicious bilge is pumped from your gut | |
| Acidic bacteria now mangle your brain | |
| Lactating pus | |
| Eructating guts | |
| Decorticated stiff | |
| I take another sniff | |
| Macerated veins are with a trocar dislodged | |
| Playing host to my probe, your pelvis now sprays | |
| Abdominal saliva is splattered from your anus | |
| Lathering my needle, your ignominious remains | |
| Easing the point into delicate flesh | |
| Declension with steel is sublimely enmeshed | |
| Irrigated fluids cake the porcelain slab | |
| Methodically in-vaginated with bromidic scabs | |
| Pus, from your veins, is tapped | |
| A bloody awful mess, your corpse is bloodless | |
| Lancinated gore is sapped | |
| Exenterated sot, your withered cadaver will rot | |
| Decaying on the slab | |
| I take another stab [solo: "The Mortician's Sword" by L.d. Muerte] [solo: "Lachrimose Germentation" by S.C. McGrath] | |
| Muscles are imbued with a gelatinous mix | |
| Prepatent secretions from your bowel make me sick | |
| A redolent mephitis maturates in the guts | |
| Laughing at your humor as it seeps from the cuts | |
| Ensmultified with larvae, your carcass is replete | |
| Drawn and quarted in a morgue as innards | |
| I delete Ichor is liquesced and from veins gladly pumped | |
| My nocturnal vocation has my colleagues quite stumped | |
| Packed in a coffin full of salt | |
| An acrid scent seeps from the box | |
| Lye is applied as the earth is fed | |
| Ensconced in a tomb, for you are quite | |
| Dead |
| zuo qu : McGrath | |
| Impacted tissue is riddled with clots | |
| Morbidly studying your gross anatomy | |
| Perinium is sullied with moldering pus | |
| A mass of gelatinized forensick liquidity | |
| Locating my trocar, the tool of my trade | |
| Emaciated fingers nimbly find what | |
| I need Desiring the gavage, | |
| I hastily optate | |
| Into your chest intercalated as your innards | |
| I bleed Muscle tissue rips, my needle drips | |
| Proceeding with my work, | |
| I' m an insensitive jerk | |
| Acid from your stomach is disgorged with a splat | |
| Liquid offal gargles in your throat | |
| Embalming tubes occluded with clumps of rotting fat | |
| Decaying larval brine is force fed until you choke | |
| Impaled on a spike, internal organs are sucked | |
| Mellifluent gore by the buckets is drained | |
| Pernicious bilge is pumped from your gut | |
| Acidic bacteria now mangle your brain | |
| Lactating pus | |
| Eructating guts | |
| Decorticated stiff | |
| I take another sniff | |
| Macerated veins are with a trocar dislodged | |
| Playing host to my probe, your pelvis now sprays | |
| Abdominal saliva is splattered from your anus | |
| Lathering my needle, your ignominious remains | |
| Easing the point into delicate flesh | |
| Declension with steel is sublimely enmeshed | |
| Irrigated fluids cake the porcelain slab | |
| Methodically invaginated with bromidic scabs | |
| Pus, from your veins, is tapped | |
| A bloody awful mess, your corpse is bloodless | |
| Lancinated gore is sapped | |
| Exenterated sot, your withered cadaver will rot | |
| Decaying on the slab | |
| I take another stab solo: " The Mortician' s Sword" by L. d. Muerte solo: " Lachrimose Germentation" by S. C. McGrath | |
| Muscles are imbued with a gelatinous mix | |
| Prepatent secretions from your bowel make me sick | |
| A redolent mephitis maturates in the guts | |
| Laughing at your humor as it seeps from the cuts | |
| Ensmultified with larvae, your carcass is replete | |
| Drawn and quarted in a morgue as innards | |
| I delete Ichor is liquesced and from veins gladly pumped | |
| My nocturnal vocation has my colleagues quite stumped | |
| Packed in a coffin full of salt | |
| An acrid scent seeps from the box | |
| Lye is applied as the earth is fed | |
| Ensconced in a tomb, for you are quite | |
| Dead |
| zuò qǔ : McGrath | |
| Impacted tissue is riddled with clots | |
| Morbidly studying your gross anatomy | |
| Perinium is sullied with moldering pus | |
| A mass of gelatinized forensick liquidity | |
| Locating my trocar, the tool of my trade | |
| Emaciated fingers nimbly find what | |
| I need Desiring the gavage, | |
| I hastily optate | |
| Into your chest intercalated as your innards | |
| I bleed Muscle tissue rips, my needle drips | |
| Proceeding with my work, | |
| I' m an insensitive jerk | |
| Acid from your stomach is disgorged with a splat | |
| Liquid offal gargles in your throat | |
| Embalming tubes occluded with clumps of rotting fat | |
| Decaying larval brine is force fed until you choke | |
| Impaled on a spike, internal organs are sucked | |
| Mellifluent gore by the buckets is drained | |
| Pernicious bilge is pumped from your gut | |
| Acidic bacteria now mangle your brain | |
| Lactating pus | |
| Eructating guts | |
| Decorticated stiff | |
| I take another sniff | |
| Macerated veins are with a trocar dislodged | |
| Playing host to my probe, your pelvis now sprays | |
| Abdominal saliva is splattered from your anus | |
| Lathering my needle, your ignominious remains | |
| Easing the point into delicate flesh | |
| Declension with steel is sublimely enmeshed | |
| Irrigated fluids cake the porcelain slab | |
| Methodically invaginated with bromidic scabs | |
| Pus, from your veins, is tapped | |
| A bloody awful mess, your corpse is bloodless | |
| Lancinated gore is sapped | |
| Exenterated sot, your withered cadaver will rot | |
| Decaying on the slab | |
| I take another stab solo: " The Mortician' s Sword" by L. d. Muerte solo: " Lachrimose Germentation" by S. C. McGrath | |
| Muscles are imbued with a gelatinous mix | |
| Prepatent secretions from your bowel make me sick | |
| A redolent mephitis maturates in the guts | |
| Laughing at your humor as it seeps from the cuts | |
| Ensmultified with larvae, your carcass is replete | |
| Drawn and quarted in a morgue as innards | |
| I delete Ichor is liquesced and from veins gladly pumped | |
| My nocturnal vocation has my colleagues quite stumped | |
| Packed in a coffin full of salt | |
| An acrid scent seeps from the box | |
| Lye is applied as the earth is fed | |
| Ensconced in a tomb, for you are quite | |
| Dead |
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