Yattering

Pleasure

Yattering


Try to comprehend me 
Before you tear the aorta 
Stab with a knife... 
...Once again 
Cut throat does not compare 
To the pleasure of raping a child 
Following her, 
I leered at her tiny boy 
Watched her delicate moves 
And that strange freshness 
Now, she's just a dead, 
Ripped corpse 
...In the cut throat 
I find my pleasure 
Raping the child 
You hatefully murder, 
Then desecrate 
My body 
You should have 
Done it before... 
...Before you thought 
Of revenge 
I was molested 
It doesn't matter now 
Now it's blood 
Now it's sperm 
Cut throat, 
Pleasure