WTN laughter from the morgue

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I Ride In A Hearse, Back To The Morgue
A Look Of Presage In My Eyes
Shrouds And Pall Hides The Hideous Form
I Love To Mangle This Fresh Corpse
I Crave For Scrumptions
Succulent Tumescent Viscera
The Carnage So Callous
Scalpels Lancets And Saws
Bleeding Punctured Tract
In Knee-Chest Postion I Dissect
Baleful Intentions Makes Me Chortle With Rapture
My Fascinations Are Innate
Posthumous Stench Of Molodorous Reek
This Rotting Cadaver I Dilate
Turgid Innards And Indeliable Pus
Abrupt Haemorrhage Brings Me Joy
Sickly Secretions Spills To The Floor
Come Tomorrow Your Family Will Mourn
Deftly As I Defile
This Process I Adore
Plasma Wets My Palate
Extreme Cacosmia I Endure
Eviscerate Hepatic Flexury
No Incision Tools I Need
Lacerated Sigmoid Colon
Pyloric Sphinter Are Ripped
The Defuct I Shall Dispose
Stiff Begins To Decompose
Exremities Are Then Hacked
And Stuffed In Little Bags

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