Grate the skin, grind the bone
Pack yourself a fat cone
Pull a bucket, thick and yellow
Fan-forced flame from morbid bellows
Coat the lining of my lungs with human waste
It's so much fun
Smouldering pieces of human meat
Cadaver-sativa; a smokers' treat
My sick addiction it relieves me
Dehydrated skin does please me
Smoke some bones, they're packed in cones
We'll grind more corpse if you're not stoned
Lighting… Pieces of cadaver dried
Smoking… The fleshy cone is singed and fried
Sucking… Lift you to a morbid high
Choking… I'll inhale you when you die
A splinter of bone to stoke your cone
Festering stash of human hash
Fetid meat is ground to smoke
Mixed with baccy so you don't choke
We are sure our special blend of epidermis will get you bent
Hydro-humans under lights
Hybrid tumours packed in tight
Feel the fumes go to my head
My penchant to smoke the dead
Smoke some bones, they're packed in cones
We'll grind more corpse if you're not stoned
Smoke the stiffs…
