Lurch Church from Kin by Vilephile

all night digging his grave
unpaid, ain't slept in days
and the little rat lost in the race ran out of time
best pick up the pace
you vilephile, your name's a disgrace
I'mma take you to hell after I piss on your grave
aww, baby afraid of what awaits in the flames?
at first it kinda hurts but you adapt to the pain

them ends ain't fans of meetin
no friends been calling late
and his shades to hide his face have cracks and scrapes from off the pavement
landlord saying to him "where's the payment?"
truth told, flushed down the drainage
im fine, flying sky high
don't know what's wrong with my life now

running outta time borrowed
don't know which road he gon' follow
alone in a head so hollow
can't cope with the dope he done swallowed
no, I don't got no problems; no problems with me
half you ugly-minded swine wallerin' in your own greed
no need to cry momma or plead for your life
scarecrow in the corn known to live by the scythe

feel the march of the farmhand undead
hear the wrong set of words from the voice in your head
ain't no shutting him up, you can fill him with lead
but your soul only returns for a worse punishment
got vultures flying over, just dying for my corpse
but they gon' wait forever, I'm living through worse
and my body is a prison, my soul has been cursed
that vile lynn woman; who made me berserk

• Country Metal
• Groove Metal
• Industrial Metal
• Metal
• Metalcore
• doom metal
• Pittsfield