Laces and ropes
The patient on the chair
The tools of the trade
Are already on the plate
Blood we will spill
And organs will leave
The poor man's body
And another day we live
Devouring flesh and bones
A taste of mortality goes on
In this fetid ward we live
Formaldehyde is what we breathe
This hospital is old and grey
We dwell in the underground maze
Jars with fetuses and filth
A place that we call home this is
Pus and blood and rust and dust
The nightmare is our daily meal
From dusk till dawn we hunt them down
A victim for you, a patient for us
Old machinery is running
Old leftovers are rotting
New footprints on the dust
Fresh meat for us to search
In a wooden closet downstairs
You can find a place to stay
In the endless dark you'll rest
Pathology at its best
The recording can barely handle the brutality the drummer is laying down and I fucking love it. Sounds wild. Great riffs to headbang to. Not stock, memorable stuff. I covered myself in ooze to fully immerse myself in this experience to leave the optimum comment. Mitch Mitcherson
With death metal, grind, and crust in the title, you'd expect something unforgiving and absolutely caustic to listen to, and that's exactly what you'll get. Brett (Lascaille's Shroud / Soulmass)