Cradle Of Filth Lord Abortion

Lord Abortion
Cradle of Filth
I was born with a birthmark of cinders
Debris cast from the stars and mother
A ring of bright slaughter, I spat in the waters
Of life that ran slick from the stab wounds in her
Dub me lord abortion, the living dead
The bone saw on the backseat
On this bitter night of giving head
A sharp rear entry, an exit in red
Lump in the throat, on my come choke
The killing joke worn thin with breath
I grew up on the sluts bastard father beat blue
Keepsake cunts cut full out easing puberty through
Aah!
Nostalgia grows
Now times nine or ten
Within this vice den called a soul
Dying resurrection
I dig deep to come again
The spasm of orgasm on a roll
I live the slow serrated rape
The bucks fizz of amyl nitrate
Victims force fed their own face
Tear stains upon the drape
I should…