IMPALED LYRICS

1. The Hippocritic Oath

[Intro:]
"Those sick, the afflicted, the injured, the cripple, those wretches no longer able to fend for their own well being... it is these enfeebled masses who have put their trust in the halls of science, who have sewn their faith in the world of medicine.
We surgeons have seen fit to devote our lives to these sad cases, these people whose time has come.
We delay the inevitable, attempting to give mankind the strength to withstand death, to live but for a few days more.
I say, no more!
I say tally no longer on the frail and infirmed.
I say, give no more peace to the withered and old.
I say, the greatest sickness of all is named "man," and it needs to be excised from the Earth like a boil.
I say, kill 'em all."

[Dialogs:]
"Rotting carbuncles, fustulating piles of meat... we have to exterminate, exterminate them all!"
"Doctor, listen to yourself, you're mad!"
"No, you listen, for the first time I am sane."

"Is there a doctor in the house?"

2. Dead Inside

[music - Sean McGrath]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

The surface teeming with the most noxious infestation of all
Through touring endeavours we will ensure humanity's fall

A strain of Yersinia Pestis we've created
To our whims bacterial genomes we've mutated
A virulent plague coming of age
A petri dish culture carefully bred
Until all tests subjects were certainly dead
Pathogenic properties increased exponentially
Unicellular organisms bent on destruction
With like motivation were in total conjuction
Birth the disease so mankind can cease (to be)
Attenuate endospores for the vaccine
Self-innoculized and resistance is gleaned
With an immune barrier, we're contagious carriers

Four vectors parading as an act
Amongst congregations who are apt to contract
Our sickness to all who witness
Epileptogenic sounds on instruments are made
While from the pulpit the illness is parlayed
Crossing through nations, a patho-migration
Airborne infection giving you fever
Cephalalgia splits your head like a cleaver
The pain crippling as your vomiting
Unwarranted paroxysm results from delirium
Dipsomania an unforeseen symptom
Your actions obscene, once you've seen green

Epidermal eruptions of pus filled cysts
Relentless molesting causing pyosis
Taking on a green pallour from swelling so deep
Aching boils mellifluously seep
As you are left to weep

Septicemic pyemia, there's poison in your veins
Saprophytic vibrio ingesting dead membranes
Spirillum minus inflaming sodoku
Steatorrhic psilosis, you've really got to go

[solo: "Ashes To Ashes, You All Fall Down" by A.S. LaBarre]

Replete with bubos, cankers, and sores
Attendees succumb to the coccus in scores
Our pestilence shall end existence
Agonizing cries give way to chorditis
Hushed death rattles, thanks to bacillus inside us
No sound passing cancrum from expiring scum
Integumental ulcers evidence disintegration
To your demise, we raise our libations
A festive soirée as lives pass away
No anti-biotic can stop our pandemic
Our disease and debauchery campaign is systemic
Take to the pit and your life is forfeit

The surface teeming with the most noxious infestation of all
Through touring endeavours we will ensure humanity's fall

3. Raise The Stakes

[music - Andre LaBarre and Sean McGrath]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

[solo: "Full-Body Piercing" by A.S. LaBarre]

An aceldama littered with corpses, withered
Cerebrum spills from heads hacked in twain
Incarnadine shower across land scoured
Quenching the sod, the blood of the slain
Battles we've fought and conquests we've wrought
In wholesale slaughter, embroiled
Harvesting dead for our dinner spread
To the victors, the fruit of the spoiled

A quartet of gorelords, reigning in blood
Sweetmeats are ablated in a sanguine flood
Survivors of the melee are illaqueated
Deigned as pabulation, impinguated

Raise the stakes, leave them all impaled
Flagitations have all failed
Raise the stakes, leave them all impaled
Tapered pikes piercing entrails

Trodding down a path, beset on each side
By the ganched and their horrisonant cries
Astride cacuminated poles, they point the way
To an arescent feast celebrating victory

Heartily whiff a myriad of stenches
Putrescine platters brought forth by wenches
Cruor bullion, the soup du jour
Into tankards, claret is poured
Crapulous carousing, the de rigueur

Dehiscent lungs bellow gargled parlance
Supplying ambience

Caitiff factions sullied our names
Beseiging their lands, we staked our claims
With their progeny dead and women caught
Now the impaled shall rot

Culled from a paladin's remains
The redolant guts of peditastellus slain
Culinary skills are put to the test
For a seven corpse meal we can't wait to ingest

From on high, the beleagured cry of suffering
Stuck like pigs on acicular sticks, uncontrolled blubbering
Atop gavelocks, punctured gralloch haemorrhage, therein
Their final view of this motley crew eating finewed kin

[solo: "Slow Death" by S.C. McGrath]

Sean, rip off their flesh
Ross, bring me a glass of blood
Raul, prepare to make carcass stew

Raise the stakes, leave them all impaled
No body left unnassailed
Raise the stakes, leave them all impaled
These life times we have curtailed

Gullets full of tripe harvested from foes
Through haughty engorgement, their flesh we have disposed
Skeletons lanced and left dangling in the air
Of our wrathful scourge, a grave reminder

4. Operating Theatre

[music - Sean McGrath]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

Baiting the vain and aesthetically challenged
To my office of promise and false hope
Demarcating lines of incision for corporeal revision
The foundation laid for a malpractical joke

Tranquilized and secured on a gurney
Associates throng for the spectacle on which they thrive
Unconsciousness no escape as you lay wide awake
Our peers observe as your placed under knife

We'd like to welcome you to the operating theatre

My scalpel marks perforations on your countenance
Volsella securely fastened as I pull
As ligature is excised with no anaesthesia
I'm sure you'll find this process quite painful

Fourteen bones degloved as periosteum is exposed
Bereft of palpebra, eyes starve for moisture
The nasal conchae and zygoma
Under chisel and mallet shall fissure

A jovial soirée for which our comrades have gathered
Relinquished admission and collude in our laughter
They applaud the disfiguring with needless suffering
From this mutilation there will be no recovering

An abscinded face we'll replace with your posterior
Gaze through a brown-eye as your shit-faced in the mirror
Your visage is your end, the lips a sphincter instead
In our surgical troupe you're cast as the shit-head

Piercing adipose tissue
With rusted hooks and screws
To keep the crowd amused
You'll break a leg or two
With needle and ink I stain
Your skin, with text profane
No part is left unmaimed
This show's rather insane

We'll knock 'em dead in the operating theatre
The show must gore on in the operating theatre

As the curtain falls on another corpus-plasty
Chains jangle when the flesh they're sewn in twitches
You shant miss your cue as your body we abuse
It's not the audience, but you we've left in stitches

[solo: "Le Grand Guignol" by S.C. McGrath]

The operating theatre

5. Choke On It

[music - Andrew LaBarre]
[lyrics - Sean McGrath]

Icy liquid fills your lungs
A gushing salt water sluice
Flushing out your bronchia with vitriol
Your trachea is targeted for particular abuse
Alveoli burst as I quench your thirst
You're hideously out of breath
Pneumonectomy, the most apparent of solutions
"Drowned in own blood," the cause of death

Internal bleeding makes you wretch
And causes a foul regurgitation
Vomiting chyme and chunks of lung
You really are in quite a situation

Gargling foamy spit
Your throat is violently slit
These symptoms won't remit
You're forced to choke on it

Your heaving chest cavity opened for fun
Broken ribcage sags atop your exploded lungs
Gasping for air as your jugular drains
You're having slight chest pains

Your heart begins to slow and your eyes grow glassy
As ruined organs are one by one discarded
A death rattle croaks from your excavated throat
Your tracheostomy has gone a bit retarded

A cannula is thrust into crepitating guts
To suction off obliterated tissues
Foamy mucoid pus drips in gobs from the cuts
Your pulmonary system has some issues
I hack out your trachea with hatred and malice
And squeeze out the plaque from within
Your pre-mortem spasm and tearful exclamations
Caused me and my partners to grin

Internal bleeding makes you wretch
And causes a foul regurgitation
Vomiting chyme and chunks of lung
You really are in quite a situation

Gargling foamy spit
Your throat is violently slit
These symptoms won't remit
You're forced to choke on it

6. We Belong Dead

[music - Ross Sewage]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

A plague on mankind, a pox on the planet
We are the surgeons of sickness and shit

Innocent bystanders are subjected to the horror
Our gruesome displays give rise to a furor
Bodies were piled and defiantly defiled
Up to our knees in blood, sweat, and bile
For the means to achieve our deviant needs
The guilty should die and the innocent bleed

Doctors of death, practitioners of pain
Morbid addictions cannot be restrained
A need to dismember, disfigure, and maim
By A.M.A. standards, we've gone quite insane

Hippocrates turning in his grave
The oath, broken, cannot be mended
From the realms of science we've strayed
And into the charnel house descended

Vitriolic tinctures substituted for plasma
Intra-venously rotted by a virulent miasma
Appendages unnecessarily amputated
To promote zero growth all were castrated
A myopic nurse doles out the bonesaw
The O.R. is now a functioning abattoir

Prescriptions meted out for an untimely demise
Injections of fæces, our malicious advice
Appointments were kept for the ceasing of lives
Our promise to heal, a pack of lies

A Hippocratic hypocrisy
When the pledge is defiled
The house of healing an atrocity
The list of victims we've compiled

Hung on a noose, drowned in the loam, sliced at the vein
Let flow the red
Choked on a pill, impaled through the brain
We belong dead

[solo: "The Flesh and the Fiends" by S.C. McGrath]

Our clinic raided by the authorities
Littered with corpses on all thirteen stories
We toiled long in the laboratories
Fueled by methamphetamines and forties

Wading through offal and excrement
Agents of law effect our detainment

Judicial proceedings with malevolent prejudice
Our heinous crimes lack any precedence
Horrifying facts and aggregious evidence
The lives and deaths of medical deviants

Bloodstained hands assure guilt, ipso facto
Our lives are forfeit for theirs, quid pro quo

Lethal injection, gas chamber, or the chair
Corporeal punishment for our brand of intensive care

[solo: "Age Actabile Anti-Hippocrate" by S.C. McGrath]
[solo: "The Doctor Is In... Sane" by A.S. LaBarre]
[solo: "Dead Men Walking" by S.C. McGrath]
[solo: "Throw the Switch" by A.S. LaBarre]

In memorium to Hippocrates
Our corporeal bonds are severed
But our crimes against humanity
In infamy, shall reign forever

Hung on a noose, drowned in the loam, sliced at the vein
Let flow the red
Choked on a pill, impaled through the brain
We belong dead

[solo: "Physician, Kill Thyself" by A.S. LaBarre]

7. The Worms Crawl In

[music - Sean McGrath]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

My temple subjected to third world rigors
Mites, lice, and chiggers
Fæcal particulates undermining hygeine
Larvae gestating
Nematodes penetrate through bare cutis
Budding hydatid cysts
To legions of parasites I will cater
A human incubator

Bowels transmuted into stygian pits
Diarrhœic fits
Omentum impacted by a septic infusion
Intestinal occlusion

Invasion precipitated by a vermes wermacht
Treatments are for naught
Burrowing through my sebacious glands
Muscles serrated into strands
Domestic quarters for all manner of vermin
Inside of me squirmin'
Linear lesions across my forearms and hands
Larva migrans

Plerocercoids gorge and migrate
Tunneling will not abate
Uretal fibrosis from the rubble
Now, urine trouble

The worms crawl in

The Wohlfartia fly is making a nest
My epidermis, a home for the pests
Gasterophilial infants are binging
As the creeping eruption is inching

Viscera gnawed away
By parasitic larvae
This life, I have rued
Reduced to worm food

Sparganosis generates fundal ulcerations
Adiposal liquidation
A mass of scolices clotting the cecum
Impacted scybalum
Quenching parched mouths on my succus entricus
Ingesting the viscus
Through the shinc-door, the pupa are lured
The early worm catches the turd

Hyperemesis induced for tæniacide
Useless tonics imbibed
Atheroma results in gangrene
A voracious maggots dream

The worms crawl in
The worms crawl out

8. To Die For

[music - Andrew LaBarre]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

A liturgist in the realm of filth and gore
Augean bard of æsculapian deviance
Fables I've made, sick stories I've parlayed
For the rapt attention of my heinous

Despised rottrephile, the object of my infection
A gore hound obsessed with the extreme and obscene
In manic obesciance, I pledge my devotion
Composing sonnets of horror for my ghoul fiend

Penny dreadfuls are met apathetically
Asomatous, they are mere words
For a worthy offering I need tangible death
The pen has proved fallible to the might of the swords

For my Bathorial maiden, I'll kill and maim
For our victims, the future proves bleak
I'll slice throats in her bloody name
Rending other's flesh that in me is so weak

Excisions and slices and cuts to their integument
My finesse with cutlery, she doth inspire
Collecting a bouquet of offal, my regiment
Trophies to admire

Dislimbed torsos and severed craniums
Disinterred innards and human chum
Though I present this sanguine tribute
It's never enough and still I'm rebuked

A grandiose gesture, I require for a petulent madamned
Gutted, my entrails will be preserved in canopic vials
Formaldehyde and alcohol are meted into jars
Lacerating extremities, a fitting end to these trials

Incised omentum, avulsed intestines
Abdominal evisceration, self-dissection

Mellifluent gore is met with ennui
My tragic reward is naught but death's kiss
Consciousness falters as blood flows from my head
Lay me down to die, nothing is better than this

9. Rest In Fæces

[music - Sean McGrath]
[lyrics - Ross Sewage]

A decrepit necropolis, abused and ignored
Once hallowed monuments disintegrate with neglect
Pillaged crypts littered with detiritus on the floor
This final resting place, a dillapidated wreck

As municipal funding began to ebb
The caretaker's keep was left deserted
Mausoleums suffering dust and cobwebs
The lustre of stone epitaphs were bled... rest in fæces

Arboreal extremities left to grow unattended
Rooted through loam, exfodiating excre-ducts
Innundated with swill, bulging and distended
Oxidised pipes, from a sodden womb, were plucked

A fusty cargo of human excreta
Impacted pipes caused the flow to reverse
Upon the cemetary, litres of diarrhœa
As the leaden veins burst... rest in fæces

A tsunami of ordure saturated the hallowed soil
Corpulent ballast disinterred coffins, amongst the manure, embroiled

As rectal mung flows
Cadavers exposed
Tombstones in pieces
Resting in fæces
Carcass and sewage
A copro-barrage
It never ceases
Resting in fæces

All manner of spilth were disgorged from the ground
Corpses, awash in night soil, were from their peace unbound
The torrent of cess eroded each memorial plaque
Incompetent care of the city of the dead has been brought to task

[solo: "Bring Out The Dead" by S.C. McGrath]

Enervated... concrete pillars crumbled
Inculpated... supervision bumbled
Conspurcated... overrun by ordure
Festulated... such a nasty odour

Exhumed bodies floated in the stool
The graveyard, an over-sized jardin
This memorial park, run by a fool
For the necropolis, this is the end

[solo: "A Teminal Case" by S.C. McGrath]
[solo: "The Horror..." by A.S. LaBarre]

10. Carpe Mortem

IMPALED LYRICS