The Choral Brooke Lyrics

Filthy and nasty flow
liquids from her precious holes.
A proper way to show how the passion works
with me, a twisted way to show how his perversion
fucks with me. Red-brown inner contents
incite to cross the border.
That's the tool I have to use
if I want to reach apace,
a shower of viscous fluids
freely scattred all over my face.

Horrifyng consumption of a liquid offender
I try to metamorphose things becoming from violent
to tender. Unable digester as a bleeding dispenser
breathing cold condenser my ideal of perfection.
Better than sex my spreadin banquet and
staggering and great the idyll I get.
Pain thatshe felt from the day I meet her at the time meant
to love 'till death for some kind of drips from the flesh
she give me to a rubies that she has concealded.
Harmless mortality, ejections to redeem,
exiledfrom reality,
what you repel is my euphory.
Felt on the skin without quiver 'cause I represent
my own surrogate.

Vomit filled with ormones
of the period of your womb
A stream of choral fluids poured from sensual slots
A stream of regurgitation poured with infertile blood,
sniffing, sipping, sampling, solitary dry dream
sustaining movement of materialism,
sustaining movements of a fetishist.

I can't live without
the rush of the hormones,
suited for a dismal brook
of forbidden emotions.
This is my devotion
double liquid abortion
out of all proportions
as you can see.
Is the only creed that I need: a
bleeding feed and the ejected deed with fulfill my
fantasy. Carried by the instinct, distinctly thinking
that I critically distinguish myself from all those.
Hypocrities with the same objective.
Hypocrities with a different prospective.
Primitive but almost pure,
surely hard to figure
fast liver, on my face
flow the scraps of life she generates.
Purpose of a purity pought by the seed planted
intoo the greed inside an ordinary life like

a river of sickness flows.
In the river of sickness flows.
The river of sickness flows.