Battle Axe Experiment - Swollen Members

Ah, this shit don’t even sound human anymore

It’s time to kill…

Rough terrain, insane in my domain

Sadomasochism, black whips and chains

There’s no stopping us, soon to be popular

Dark fin snorkling, shark fins circling

You can’t step to the fierce and ferocious

Beast makes you nauseous

Hah, please be cautious

Murderous mind state drown in the bloodbath

First comes the battle ram strike with the battle axe

Can’t fill my appetite viking decapitate

Turntable terrorist, cuts that evaporate

Ugh, come from the depths of the underworld

Silver fire reigns supreme on the surface

You ride the spirit horse, dream catcher captures

Take attack posture, structure and stature

Im starin at ya, black tarantula

Swollen psychopath, contract canceller

Spinal cord curvature cracks over my overture

Amateurs couldn’t complete my ???

massacre

Haven’t you ever slept in the hangman’s quarters?

Laid down on a lay, sharp chains saw he spray

Dazed as you reach for the handle on the door

Amazed at the pattern i’ve engraved on the floor

Hard skills and handsaws, skillsaws and metal jaws

Vertebraic and algebraic against all odds

No Gods to deliver, wrath on blood river

Rats and black withers, half attacked prisoners

Mental complex yells spells and vexed text

Deliverance of the next dragons breath and bird flesh

Calm surface, serpents sleeps, leviathan

An angel’s assistant under Satan’s surveillance

Vitalizer, psycho acoustic equalizer

Stars explode planet Europa gets blown

To oblivion, melt a warrior, what rock you living on?

Lovecraft, necronomicon, Dr Fells to Mephisto

Dirty deeds with no leads

Murky water runs red as the Holy Father bleeds

You speed toward the outline of the treeline in question

The forest area where 4 people have gone missing

Apparitions cloud your visions, fangmarks and incisions

Uncontrolled muscle contortions, sacrificial fetal position

And once through your mind that you live to see the sun

And swore that you’d be the one not

With silver bullets in your gun

Now the tables have shifted, the table of the witched

The altar of the altered alistair crowley offered

Much harsher than the jogger that they found in the marsh

Become the gateway through which the army of darkness will march

My still heart pumps no liquid on a pedestal of marble

No medical marvel, will let you see tomorrow

now things have gotten out of hand