Lyrics Inpropagation - Carcass
Insipid
fumes
bellow
from
the
atrabilious
chimney
Whilst
in
the
sanctified
crevet
I
calmly
pillage
and
rake
For
hot
dry
powdered
human
slag
Still
steaming
in
the
crematorium's
grate
Bio-organic
ebullition,
bones
tar,
tallow
dehydrates
For
my
deleterious
horticulture
so
that
I
may
cultivate
Your
mortal
mechanism
dies
- in
nutrients
rich
In
the
hallowed
turf
you
lie
- just
for
the
taking
Charred
sinew's
as
good
as
lime,
no
phosphates
do
I
need
Deteriorated
flesh
used
as
top-soil,
to
replenish
and
nourish
seed
Spreading
this
human
potash,
as
ash
matured
Recycling
my
rich
harvest,
bring
out
your
dead...
for
use
as
manure...
Irrigating
tears
are
shed,
but
the
ground
still
must
be
fed
Tipping
and
dusting
up
the
spilt
contents
of
urns
Every
morsel
that
glows
like
ember
on
the
fire
Extinguishing
all
hope
of
beatrific
dispatch
These
charred
chassis
desired
Exequiet
rites
now
performed,
a
coronach
sooting
up
the
flu
Enter
my
execrable
inferno,
even
in
the
after-life
there's
work
to
do
The
nitrogen
content's
high
- but
the
flesh
is
weak
At
the
graveside
mourners
cry
- you're
never
to
wake
again
Burnt
brisket
renews
the
ground,
to
germinate
my
seed
Cremated
bodies
are
my
spoil,
to
use
them
as
plant-feed
Ploughing
this
abhorrent
human
manure
Seeding
my
rich
harvest,
bring
out
your
dead...
for
the
soils
to
devour...
Dry
the
dead
are
bled,
because
the
ground
must
be
fed
And
there's
still
no
rest
for
the
dead
I
propagate
- dust
in
the
grate
Ashes
to
ashes
- dust
to
dust,
diluted
in
water
and
sprayed
on
crops
Charcoal,
fats,
flesh
and
soot
fertilising
pasture
with
active
fertile
rot
Incumbent
- latent
calories
are
spent
Ashes
to
ashes
- dust
to
dust
renewing
the
land
with
corpses
corrupt
Mortuary
scrapings,
hearses
a
must,
to
the
hot
hearth
the
deceased
are
trussed
Harvesting
the
defouled,
to
fertilize
my
soil
Rejuvenating
the
spent
with
my
fecundate
spoils...
Reaping
the
gone,
to
nourish
the
land
Replenishing
exhausted
pasture
with
my
uncanny
sleight
of
hand
Restoring
the
unnatural
balance,
sowing
my
seed
Defalcating
the
departed,
I
rapt
and
glean...
So
I
recite
my
contrite
lament,
lacrimation
for
the
dead
Their
rest
which
I
disturb...
Where
should
stand
row
upon
row
of
cold
grey
remembrance
stones
My
cash
crops
now
grow...
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