Cut, Gut, Beaten, Eaten
Gorerotted
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Hide my face, my geatures of pain
Is there any point of having a name
I stare in front, i see only red
As i lay here upon my death bed
Cut, gut, beaten, eaten
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The cannibals feast upon my innards
Using bark to eat their dinner
Moist muscle, inner bile
Handfuls of viscera
Being eaten in piles
Eaten
Cut, gut, beaten, eaten
A half eaten carcass
Soaked in blood
Rotting in the heat, and mud
Cavity wounds, gaping holes
I'm left disregarded by
These cannibal trolls