Pleasures of the Scalpel

by FETID ZOMBIE

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FETID ZOMBIE
"Pleasures of the Scalpel"
Metalhit
Debut album of notorious underground artist, Mark Riddick! “Pleasures of the Scalpel” is a filthy entourage of gore-inspired heathen hymns reflecting the perverseness found in Riddick’s artwork. A solo-effort with special guest appearances by ARSIS, UNBURIED, and LOCULUS!

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released January 1, 2008

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FETID ZOMBIE Leesburg, Virginia

FETID ZOMBIE, the blasphemous and death-obsessed, solo effort of reputable underground death metal illustrator Mark Riddick, was born in January 2007. Riddick makes no apologies or compromises for his unique vision, offering a myriad of influences from hard rock/heavy metal to technical death metal. Prepare for an unruly onslaught of anti-faith sentiment and old school death metal worship! ... more

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Track Name: Pleasures of the Scalpel
Perverted surgeon, carver of skin
Cutting through flesh, with an excited grin
A sordid response, to the sight of blood
Hormones raging; he gets wood
Creepy fetish . . . strange compulsion . . . can’t resist
Getting hard . . . from the blood . . . strangest love
Gore is sexy . . . makes him happy . . . ready for surgery
As his blade, pierces the subject
Loins swell, he becomes erect
Trying hard, not to touch his cock
This is one fucked up doc
Now the operation is complete
It’s time to go beat his meat
With blood and gore, on the mind
He shoots a load, sourly malign
Track Name: Solid Waste Management
Pale warm body, in the dumpster
Tied up in a rug, is how I found her
Still in tact, only one hack
She’s looking pretty fine and now she’s mine
Just a day, on the job
Picking up trash, to earn some cash
So I hide her in the back, inside a sack
A fortunate chance for a new romance
When I get home, from the dump
I’ll have myself a salacious hump
With my recently departed lover
This lecherous rage, I’ve uncovered
I dress her up, as I please
She’ll take it any way, to meet my needs
What great luck, to find a dead fuck
Love her milky eyes and rotten thighs
She makes me quiver, with rabid delight
I’ll have her sexy corpse tonight
I’ll fuck her remains, before she’s ripe
I’ll sperm with glee, our love was meant to be
Track Name: Diarreah by the Gallons
Sitting on the john
A sore feeling in my gut
Bowels twist and turn
Colon begins to burn
My rectum opens wide
Sweat drips from my face
As it exits my ass
Without any haste
A sordid-colored soup
Enters the porcelain bowl
A liquefied brew
Chunky septic stew
Where a foul worm Makes its new home
Once nested in my gut
Now swimming in the filth
Track Name: Starved for Flesh
Prepare the athame, for the incantation
Light the unholy flame . . . vengeance to reclaim
With rite and spell, the zombie is unleashed
Dead flesh becomes as whole, for a human feast
Starved for flesh
Hungry zombie butcher
Sanguine mess
Riotous violent slaughter
A killer is reborn, of rotten bone and skin
To inflict its fury . . . the bloodbath shall begin
Rushing through the masses, with fanatical hunger
Tearing, ripping, biting . . . like a lunatic butcher
Track Name: Gimp Mask Confessional
Sadomasochist, distributor of pleasure
Master, sadist Contributor of pain
In my dark-dank dungeon
Assorted toys of affliction
For a willing slave
To taste my merciless wrath
Welcome to my lair
Your presence, I accept
Now you will submit
To the of lashes my whip
Track Name: Man of the Semen-stained Cloth
Blessed be, the unholy preacher
Father of sin, falsified teacher
Two-faced prophet, of good will
Using young boys, for a cheap thrill
In the abbey’s darkest reach
Where he neglects what he’s preached
Altar boys—gagged are found
Barely clothed—caged and bound
Disturbed fuck, God’s creation
Sexually repressed—deviation
Cuts his oath, to his god
To indulge, his fleshy rod
Foul man, touching boys
Fixed to please, his sour loins
Children raped, by sacred cock
“Father no . . . make it stop!”
Track Name: Bone Saw Amputation
Eighteenth century tool
Used for carving victims
Artifact of mutilation
Exquisite instrument
For ill-gotten dissection
Dirty saw of infection
Rusted surgical steel
Meets with tender flesh
Body parts twitch and thresh
Cuts are slow but deep
Wounds go untreated
Butchered into assorted pieces
Lovely chunks of meat
Sit out until spoiled
Savoring the vile rotten stench
Nostrils fill with the odor
Of hacked-apart limbs
The scene is gory and grim
Remnants of the art
Of humans torn apart
A sanguineous duty to fulfill
Bone saw amputation
Slaughtered like a cow
Antique tool of mutilation
Track Name: Confessional Booth Glory Hole
Masturbating minister
Confessions of lustful sin
Arousing senses deep within
Genitals swell with desire
Chiseled orifice in the booth
Perfect size for preacher pecker
Stick it through for Christ to chew
‘Glory’ be to ‘Rod’ on high
Confessional booth glory hole
Confessional booth glory hole
Track Name: Toilet Water Baptism
Inverted rite of filth
Baptized in the taint
Piss, blood, shit and semen
Shall wet your hypocrite soul
Font of sewage
Bathing your existence
There is no purity, for a poisoned mind
Your soul is of shit
Dogmatic diarrhea
Spreading the disease, that is your God
Track Name: Minced
I nosh on your guts
Savor every morsel
Indulging every cut
Of your carved up torso
Your limbs are quite tasty
Though you’re looking a little pasty
It’s all that blood I drank
Now you’re smelling quite rank
Your skin is a little tough
Now I’ll have to chop you up
Some bites are too great
For my little plate
So I’ll mince you up
Before you go corrupt
No need for leftovers
I’ll be swallowing you whole