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The Black Dahlia Murder
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Virally Yours
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Fix lyrics Virally Yours by The Black Dahlia Murder
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Current song lyrics
The sound of vomiting to my ears like singing<br />Now I am beginning to become erect<br />With illness I am obsessed <br />In the beds of the fallen I rest<br />A fixation amplified<br />The smell here is what I like best.<br /><br />Feverishly combing the buckets of waste<br />Wrapping myself in the filth-ridden sheets<br />Raping the shells of the comatose to fulfill my needs.<br /><br />Photographing bedsores cultured by my sick neglect<br />It's more than a job, it's a love for me to walk this close with death.<br /><br />When you hear a flat line you know surely I'll be near<br />To when the reaper's sickle is drawn I am ever aware.<br /><br />I wish I could pull these strings<br />In death there are finer things<br />Malpractice<br />Forever be my bitter name.<br /><br />How quickly life does fade away<br />But a flip of the river man's coin could send you soon screaming to you your grave.<br /><br />Grief stricken family watches on<br />Ceaseless prayers for an only son<br />"I am afraid that nothing can be done"<br />This moment has finally come.<br /><br />The wrath of a God exemplified<br />To the pearly gates he'll soon arrive<br />To leave here his husk in this room of white<br />I'm quivering at the thought.<br /><br />Pull the plug<br />(I'm begging you)<br />Take the ride<br />(To the cold and blue)<br />The reaper's yellowed lichen finger aims ever so true<br />The origins of disease <br />I have witnessed in my dreams<br />The flooding of the blackest blood to quench my fetid needs.<br /><br />I wish I could pull these strings<br />In death there are finer things<br />Malpractice<br />Forever be my bitter name.
New song lyrics
The sound of vomiting to my ears like singing<br />Now I am beginning to become erect<br />With illness I am obsessed <br />In the beds of the fallen I rest<br />A fixation amplified<br />The smell here is what I like best.<br /><br />Feverishly combing the buckets of waste<br />Wrapping myself in the filth-ridden sheets<br />Raping the shells of the comatose to fulfill my needs.<br /><br />Photographing bedsores cultured by my sick neglect<br />It's more than a job, it's a love for me to walk this close with death.<br /><br />When you hear a flat line you know surely I'll be near<br />To when the reaper's sickle is drawn I am ever aware.<br /><br />I wish I could pull these strings<br />In death there are finer things<br />Malpractice<br />Forever be my bitter name.<br /><br />How quickly life does fade away<br />But a flip of the river man's coin could send you soon screaming to you your grave.<br /><br />Grief stricken family watches on<br />Ceaseless prayers for an only son<br />"I am afraid that nothing can be done"<br />This moment has finally come.<br /><br />The wrath of a God exemplified<br />To the pearly gates he'll soon arrive<br />To leave here his husk in this room of white<br />I'm quivering at the thought.<br /><br />Pull the plug<br />(I'm begging you)<br />Take the ride<br />(To the cold and blue)<br />The reaper's yellowed lichen finger aims ever so true<br />The origins of disease <br />I have witnessed in my dreams<br />The flooding of the blackest blood to quench my fetid needs.<br /><br />I wish I could pull these strings<br />In death there are finer things<br />Malpractice<br />Forever be my bitter name.
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