about
Recorded live at Cryptic Studios, Lewiston, Maine, by Jason Fogg and Jason Crowell.
lyrics
I cannot cope with the idiocy, the fact is we don't get along
While you're trying to be something that you're not, I scoff at your existence
Some feel that you shouldn't be here, and with them I tend to agree
You're no more than a gurgled choke in the back of the throat of your favorite whore
How I abhor thee, your incompetence, your weak mind
Now you'll lick your festering sores, I'll leave your tongue to taste
How does it feel to watch your hacked body quiver?
To taste your kidney's bile rushing out, chewing every bite of horror
Your whole life, never taking a stand
Now you'll suffer as I cram your mouth with the sickly remains of the man you never were
A breathing lump of sour flesh
that speaks foul stenching words, regarding nothingness
The afterlife contains no hope for you, you'll be dabbled with and strewn aside
a mockery of your past life, shackled like a dog at the gates of abandonment
Trashed, beaten, ripped from your previous hell
My abhorrence for you is resolved knowing you're soon to be treated justly
Stuck in the back with burning hooks, hanging from your skin
Burn forever slowly, I'll come with your next meal
How does it feel to be your own meal?
I'm sure you can't remember now
It's my turn to feast, and I'll shit you out a better man
credits
from
'98 Cryptic Demo,
released January 1, 1998
Mike Cavanaugh - drums
Kris Milo - vocals
John Dorr - bass
Brian Albert - guitar
Lyrics by Milo
license
all rights reserved