Alba s touto skladbou:
Nocturnal,
The sound of vomiting
To my ears like singing
Now I'm beginning to become erect
With illness I am obsessed
In the beds of the fallen I rest
Fixation amplified
The smell here is what I like best
Feverishly combing the buckets of waste
Wrapping myself in the filth-ridden sheets
Raping the shells of the comatose
To fulfil my needs
Photographing bedsores cultured
By my sick neglect
It's more than a job it's a love for me
To walk this close with death
When you hear the flat line you know surely I'll be near
To when the reaper's sickle is drawn I am ever aware
I wish I could pull these strings
In death there are finer things
Malpractice
Forever be my bitter name
Oh how quickly life does fade away
But a flip of the river-man's coin
Could send you screaming to your grave
Grief stricken family watches on
Ceaseless prayers for an only son
"I'm afraid that nothing can be done"
The moment has finally come
The wrath of a god exemplified
To the pearly gates he'll soon arrive
To leave here his husk in this room of white
I'm quivering at thought
Pull the plug
I'm begging you
Take the ride
To the cold and blue
The reapers yellowed lichen finger
Aims ever so true
The origins of disease I have witnessed in my dreams
The flooding of the blackest blood to quench my fetid needs
I wish I could pull these strings
In death there are finer things
Malpractice
Forever be my bitter name
I wish I could pull these strings
In death there are finer things
