Phobophile Lyrics

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In the kitchenWith a screaming triple amputee;It's complection depends soleyOn my needs.Said amputee stumpsAre my way of saying;"Thank you just for being you."It's fear tastes better than it's limbs.Terror of mortality,I draw from the slowly dying damnedMonsters live behind my eyes;I let them out and people die.And all the grave wormsThat come for their piece of meat?I give them dead things..The wretched living are mine aloneFright mounts with the body countTo which anthropomancy predicts a declineIn all of God's creation,Can there be a lifestyle that's better than this?I mark my territoryWith their blood and excritementAnd adipocere...I can find my way in the dark;My fulfilment is habitually necromanicAnd anal abusive..Seen through the eyes of a morticianThey've "caught" me, as they call it;My teeth and my semen have betrayed me..Nevermore!Tests to gauge my rationale,The likes of which these feeble minds haveNever seen.Rorschach blotters,My responses to which inspire fear...From my lizard side,The amoral alien speaks;"These aren't butterflies,I see a face I'd like to burn."ObfuscationOf the authorities with lies,And my naturAlability to charm and be me,Or whoever they want;I've known all minds by divine right.

Crystal Age Phobophile