Waxwork Lyrics
| Song | Waxwork |
| Artist | Exhumed |
| Album | Anatomy Is Destiny |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Matt | |
| In my waxen world, time stands still | |
| Forever frozen like flies trapped in amber | |
| One perfect moment preserved, just ere the kill | |
| Gruesome atrocities transfixed in horror's chamber | |
| Poetry without motion, figures stranded midstream | |
| Waxen players in this dark drama of the macabre | |
| Mouths agape with terror but breathless to scream | |
| No death rattle heard, nor parting sors... | |
| I am preserver of life through my morbid art | |
| For each mannequin was truly alive from the start | |
| So if the eyes seem to follow your gaze as you gawk | |
| Know that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you walk... | |
| Cadavers molded in wax as their lives buried away | |
| More preening puppets to perform in the scenes that | |
| I play Features cast in the moment of dying preserved | |
| How they screamed as they met with their fates well deserved... | |
| WAXWORK Recreating the horror of the moment of death | |
| My models serve their purpose quite well | |
| Embalm their bodies in wax, capture their dying breath | |
| Drain the fluids to stave off the smell | |
| Like dolls that dance to their own funeral dirge | |
| They play out their death scenes interminably | |
| As prized their exhibits in my dark reserve | |
| They unfold their secrets only to me | |
| Life eternal in wax was their death's decree | |
| Suffering for my art, they surrendered to me | |
| So when their eyes lock with your gaze | |
| Look unflinchingly at death or turn away fast... | |
| Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed away | |
| Another preserved puppet to prance on the strings that | |
| I play The fear ensnared in their captive countenances | |
| I've trapped | |
| Mummified and memorialised in wax well-woven and wrapped... | |
| WAXWORK [Lead - Matt] | |
| So sit still in your place at the end of the blade | |
| By my design, death's hand find you just out of reach | |
| Another player in this deathly silent world that | |
| I have made | |
| Devoid of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speech | |
| Awaiting a terminus that never will come | |
| You're a marionette bound by my strings | |
| Trussed in this tomb of wax, your time here is not done | |
| For time does not quite end all things... | |
| This is my life's work, this still, silent place | |
| A monument to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen face | |
| Take care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you do | |
| When you look deep into death, it sees back into you too... | |
| Flesh bubbled and scalded, as this molten bath washed life away | |
| Wax covered my still-screaming prey | |
| Another piece for my prizing, recast in my mold | |
| Features harden and set as the wax grows stiff and cold... | |
| WAXWORK |
| zuo qu : Matt | |
| In my waxen world, time stands still | |
| Forever frozen like flies trapped in amber | |
| One perfect moment preserved, just ere the kill | |
| Gruesome atrocities transfixed in horror' s chamber | |
| Poetry without motion, figures stranded midstream | |
| Waxen players in this dark drama of the macabre | |
| Mouths agape with terror but breathless to scream | |
| No death rattle heard, nor parting sors... | |
| I am preserver of life through my morbid art | |
| For each mannequin was truly alive from the start | |
| So if the eyes seem to follow your gaze as you gawk | |
| Know that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you walk... | |
| Cadavers molded in wax as their lives buried away | |
| More preening puppets to perform in the scenes that | |
| I play Features cast in the moment of dying preserved | |
| How they screamed as they met with their fates well deserved... | |
| WAXWORK Recreating the horror of the moment of death | |
| My models serve their purpose quite well | |
| Embalm their bodies in wax, capture their dying breath | |
| Drain the fluids to stave off the smell | |
| Like dolls that dance to their own funeral dirge | |
| They play out their death scenes interminably | |
| As prized their exhibits in my dark reserve | |
| They unfold their secrets only to me | |
| Life eternal in wax was their death' s decree | |
| Suffering for my art, they surrendered to me | |
| So when their eyes lock with your gaze | |
| Look unflinchingly at death or turn away fast... | |
| Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed away | |
| Another preserved puppet to prance on the strings that | |
| I play The fear ensnared in their captive countenances | |
| I' ve trapped | |
| Mummified and memorialised in wax wellwoven and wrapped... | |
| WAXWORK Lead Matt | |
| So sit still in your place at the end of the blade | |
| By my design, death' s hand find you just out of reach | |
| Another player in this deathly silent world that | |
| I have made | |
| Devoid of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speech | |
| Awaiting a terminus that never will come | |
| You' re a marionette bound by my strings | |
| Trussed in this tomb of wax, your time here is not done | |
| For time does not quite end all things... | |
| This is my life' s work, this still, silent place | |
| A monument to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen face | |
| Take care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you do | |
| When you look deep into death, it sees back into you too... | |
| Flesh bubbled and scalded, as this molten bath washed life away | |
| Wax covered my stillscreaming prey | |
| Another piece for my prizing, recast in my mold | |
| Features harden and set as the wax grows stiff and cold... | |
| WAXWORK |
| zuò qǔ : Matt | |
| In my waxen world, time stands still | |
| Forever frozen like flies trapped in amber | |
| One perfect moment preserved, just ere the kill | |
| Gruesome atrocities transfixed in horror' s chamber | |
| Poetry without motion, figures stranded midstream | |
| Waxen players in this dark drama of the macabre | |
| Mouths agape with terror but breathless to scream | |
| No death rattle heard, nor parting sors... | |
| I am preserver of life through my morbid art | |
| For each mannequin was truly alive from the start | |
| So if the eyes seem to follow your gaze as you gawk | |
| Know that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you walk... | |
| Cadavers molded in wax as their lives buried away | |
| More preening puppets to perform in the scenes that | |
| I play Features cast in the moment of dying preserved | |
| How they screamed as they met with their fates well deserved... | |
| WAXWORK Recreating the horror of the moment of death | |
| My models serve their purpose quite well | |
| Embalm their bodies in wax, capture their dying breath | |
| Drain the fluids to stave off the smell | |
| Like dolls that dance to their own funeral dirge | |
| They play out their death scenes interminably | |
| As prized their exhibits in my dark reserve | |
| They unfold their secrets only to me | |
| Life eternal in wax was their death' s decree | |
| Suffering for my art, they surrendered to me | |
| So when their eyes lock with your gaze | |
| Look unflinchingly at death or turn away fast... | |
| Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed away | |
| Another preserved puppet to prance on the strings that | |
| I play The fear ensnared in their captive countenances | |
| I' ve trapped | |
| Mummified and memorialised in wax wellwoven and wrapped... | |
| WAXWORK Lead Matt | |
| So sit still in your place at the end of the blade | |
| By my design, death' s hand find you just out of reach | |
| Another player in this deathly silent world that | |
| I have made | |
| Devoid of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speech | |
| Awaiting a terminus that never will come | |
| You' re a marionette bound by my strings | |
| Trussed in this tomb of wax, your time here is not done | |
| For time does not quite end all things... | |
| This is my life' s work, this still, silent place | |
| A monument to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen face | |
| Take care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you do | |
| When you look deep into death, it sees back into you too... | |
| Flesh bubbled and scalded, as this molten bath washed life away | |
| Wax covered my stillscreaming prey | |
| Another piece for my prizing, recast in my mold | |
| Features harden and set as the wax grows stiff and cold... | |
| WAXWORK |
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