Virally Yours - The Black Dahlia Murder

The sound of vomiting to my ears' like singing

Now I’m beginning to become erect

With illness I’m obsessed in the beds of the fallen I rest

A fixation amplified the smell here is what I like best

Feverishly combing the buckets of waste

Wrapping myself in the filth ridden sheets

Raping the shells of the comatose

To fulfill my needs

Photographing bedsores

Cultured by my sick neglect

It’s more then a job

It’s a love for me to walk this close with death

When you hear a flat line

You know surely I’ll be near

To when the reaper’s sickle is drawn

I am ever aware

I wish I could pull these strings

In death there are finer things

Malpractice forever be my bitter name

How quickly life does fade away

One flip of the rivers man coin

Could send you screaming to your grave

Grief stricken family watches on

Ceaseless prayers for an only son

I’m afraid that nothing can be done

The moment has finally come

The wrath of a God exemplified

To the pearly gates He’ll soon arrive

To leave here his husk in this room of white

I’m quivering at thought

Pull the plug I’m begging you

Take the ride to the cold and blue

The reaper’s yellowed lichen finger

Aims ever so true

The origins of disease

I have witnessed in my dreams

The flooding of the blackest blood

To quench my fetid needs

I wish I could pull these strings

In death there are finer things

Malpractice forever be my bitter name

I wish I could pull these strings

In death there are finer things