Carcass - Wake Up And Smell The… Carcass

Artist: Carcass
Release: Wake Up And Smell The… Carcass


1. Edge Of Darkness

A rising, bleak dawn
A permanent sunset
On the human condition
A boot perpetually treads

Illumination snuffed
Fowards on time will march
Holding as a mirror
Condemning to repeat the past

Endtime
The realms of a setting sun
Twilight
A new age has begun
Decline
Decension to a new dark age
Blank time
An old world not quite so brave

Right on the edge
Of a new dark age
Back on the edge

We stand on the edge of darkness

A fading dusk
Empty, blanketing shade
A dying sun
Only blackness radiates

An aeon ends
A millenium overturned
Time lies in embers
As barren horizons burn

End time
The realms of a setting sun
Twilight
A new age has begun
Decline
Decension to a new dark age
Blank time
An old world not quite so brave

Right on the edge
Of a new dark age
Back on the edge

We stand on the edge of darkness

Endtime
The realms of a setting sun
Twilight
A new age has begun
Decline
Decension to a new dark age
Blank time
An old world not quite so brave

Right on the edge
Of a new dark age
Back on the edge

Right on the edge
Of a new dark age
Back on the edge

2. Emotional Flatline

An emotional void, a cold empty shell
Embittered husk, a heart of darkness
Trace weak pulse, vascular eclipse
Numbed and sapped, emotional paralysis

Flatline, grievious bodily heart
Flatlined, sensitivity bypassed

No tears to cry
Stone cold emotional flatline

Emotional flatline
No tears to cry

With indifference touched of emotion drained
Cold bloody minded, caressing disdain
Pulsating life, only rhythmic dead beats
Terminal cardiac ridden with disease

Flatline
No tears to cry
The hard line
Stone cold emotionless flatline

No time to cry
Stone cold emotional flatline

Emotional flatline
No time to cry
No tears to cry

3. Ever Increasing Circles

Round and round we go
Like a merry-go-round out of control
The same old tune, same old song
Again, again, and again

Round and round we go
When will it stop, nobody knows
The same old chords, the same old words
It all sounds familiar, all starts to sound the same

Turn on, tune in, drop out
Out of tune, dropped in, turned off
Who calls the tune?

Round and round we go
Ever get the feeling you’ve heard this before?
Same old melody, rejuvenated
Recycled again and again

Round and round, we go
Never able to stem the flow
Same old notes, going round in cycles
Over and over again, and over again

Turn on, tune in, drop out
Out of tune, dropped in, turned off
Who calls the tune?

Who plays the fool?
As the circles ever increase

Round and round we go
Like a merry-go-round out of control
The same old tune, the same old song
Again, again, and again

Round and round we go
Ever get the feeling you’ve heard this before?
Same old melody, rejuvenated
Recycled again and again, again and again

Turn on, tune in, drop out
Out of tune, dropped in, turned off

Turn on, tune in, drop out
Out of tune, dropped in, turned off
Who calls the tune?
Who plays the fool?

Who calls the tune?
As the circles ever increase

4. Blood Spattered Banner

Your blood flies in the wind
It’s old and worn and has no glory
Hand on heart allegiance pledged

Patriot, hatred instilled
Ignorant, white trash stand proud
With bigotry endowed

These colours don’t run
These colours well worn
These colours don’t run
But put to the torch they’ll sure as hell

Burn like your passion
The passion of the damned
Can you still hear Dixie?

Ignorance is your strength
A raped stolen land stands so proud
Can you still hear Dixie scream out loud?

These colours don’t run
These colours are well worn
These colours don’t run
But put to the torch they’ll sure as hell

Burn…
Burn…
Burn…
Burn…

Your blood flies in the wind
Aged, ragged it’s a sorry story
Blood-spattered banner unfurled

A nation, hatred instilled
With slavery stained
Your dream of shame

These colours don’t run
These colours are well worn
These colours don’t run
But put to the torch they’ll sure as hell

These colours don’t run
These colours are well worn
Your colours don’t run
But put to the torch
I’ll tread on you!

These colours don’t run
These colours are well worn
These colours don’t run
But put to the torch they’ll sure as hell

Burn…
Burn…
Burn…
Burn…

Want to see your flag up in flames

Burn…
Burn…
Burn…
Burn…

I’ll tread on you

5. I Told You So

Please tell me how to think
Please tell me what to say
Please tell me what to do
Please tell me how I should behave

Please tell me what to sing
Please tell me what to play
Please tell me how to act
Please tell me the rules of your game

Please tell me who I should be
Please tell me what to do
Please tell me how to please
I really want to be like you

Really done it now, sold out
But to who, what, when, where and how
Yeah, really done it now, sold out
I’ve taken my cut
And corporate rock really sucks

Don’t try and tell me how to think
Don’t tell me what to say
Don’t tell me what to do
Don’t try and tell me how to behave

Don’t tell me how to sing
Don’t tell me how I should play
Don’t tell me how to act
I don’t want to play to your game

Don’t tell me who I should be
Don’t tell me what to do
Its myself I’m trying to please
Don’t anyone, least of all, you

Really done it now, sold out
But to who, what, when, where and how
Yeah, really done it now, sold out
I’ve taken my cut

Yeah, really done it now, sold out
But to who, what, when, where and how
Yeah, really done it now, sold out
I’ve taken my cut

Yeah, really done it now, sold out
But to who, what, when, where and how
Yeah, really done it now, sold out
I’ve taken my cut
And corporate rock really does suck

6. Buried Dreams

Welcome to a world of hate
A life of buried dreams
Smothered by the soils of fate
Welcome to a world of pain
Bitterness your only wealth
The sand of time kicked in your face
Rubbed in your face

When aspirations are squashed
When life’s chances are lost
When all hope is gone
When expectations are quashed
When self esteem is lost
When ambition is mourned
All you need is hate

In futility, for self preservation
We all need someone
Someone to hate

7. No Love Lost

Sensual awakening
Numbing feeling’s dead
Conception’s romanticised
Synthesised broken heart’s to bled

Without emotion you heartstring’s played
Strummed and severed to the tune of a tragic serenade

Without emotion, your heartstrings break
Snapped and severed to the tune of a tragic, sad cliche

No love lost
When all is said and done
There’s no love lost

The low cost of loving
Amorous travesty
Human frailties and weakness are easy prey
How your poor heart will bleed

8. Rot N Roll

Can you smell the rot?
As opportunity knocks
The foul stench of success

This carcass in decay
Well past it’s sell-by date
This time the fall comes before the pride

The chameleon’s changed its shade
But the same old song, to the same old tune is played
Falling to the bait
But the song still sounds the same
Let’s rot
C’mon, rot!

This carcass in decay
Tell me, can you smell the rot?

The chameleon’s changed its shade
But the same old song, to the same old tune is played
Kill me, it’s unbrave
But the song remains the same
Let’s rot, let’s rot
C’mon, rot!

Commiserations or celebrations of a rejuvenation?
Commiserations or celebrations of a rejuvenation?

9. This Is Your Life

he spirit distilled, the soul is bought
The DNA split, the virus is caught
The germination of reproduction
Complex patterns of genetic devolution
The die is cast

Birth, copulation, and death
Is this your life?
Birth, copulation, and death
Is this the meaning of life?

Is this the genesis of devolution?
The die is cast

Birth, copulation, and death
Is this your life?
Birth, copulation, and death
Is this the meaning of life?

Birth, copulation, and death
Is this your life?
Birth, copulation, and death
Is this the meaning

Birth, copulation, and death
Is this your life?
Birth, copulation, and death

10. Tools Of The Trade

Steel skin clips
Forceps, grooved awl, retractors, needles
Gouges and saws
Intestinal clamps, blunt dissectors
Scalpels, pins, toothed directors

Tools of the trade, forceps and blades
Skillfully lathed, for us to maim

Bone levers, spikes, malleable scoops
Plates and chisels, screws and spoons
Drills, respatories, files and durettes
Guillotines, gags and compression forceps

Tools of the trade, ripping the ribcage
To remissly lustrate, so pleased to maim

Retractors, mallets, rugines and benders
Chisels, rods, sharps and catheters
Trephines, undines, irons and stirrups
Depressors, tongues, sterile catgut

Tools of the trade, stainless steel blades
Painstakingly lathed, we’re so pleased to maim

11. Pyosisified

The lingering scirrhus begins to harden
As the insides fall prey to putrefaction
Rotting tissue turns to mush and pulp
As your mind is torn by encephalitis

Your cavities rot with ulcers
Your infected inflammations torn
Your gizzards eaten by incursive decay
You’re infernally rotten to the gore

Juices digested from each pus-swollen pore
Insatiable hunger as I feast on the gore
Nothing gives me greater pleasure
Than a bowl full of chyme
Maggot infested kidneys
Are what I choose every time

The smell of plaguing infection
Is nauseatingly emetic
Prolonged spumescence of stale pus
Stinks like hot, putrid vomit

Your body is indurate
The insides are black as tar
Your innards gnawed by septic hate
Now a mass of empyaema

Your blood is caked, dried and inconsistent
Your bloody rotten gore is now vitrescent

12. Hepatic Tissue Fermentation II

Orally force fed, until cirmosis is induced
Fatal renal failure, bleeds like a sluice
Spewing blood as the gallbladder extrudes
Alcoholic poisoning, bloated lobules burst
Toxins flood the stomach, in diffluence submerged
Coughting waste as the wrecked colon tears

The blood now critically proof, neural cells fatally quenched
Drowning in spilt retention, hepatic tissue ferments

Poisoned retention, with intoxication
Inflamed nephrons burst, your condition’s getting worse
Chronically diffused, your liver you will lose

Bodily distillation, as emerged flesh reacts
With alcoholic contents, in your urinally tract
Dripping fluid as the decrepit appendix weeps
Matter turns to fluid, intoxicating ablution
Bilary dehydration, innards to solution
Bleeding urine as the inflamed bladder rips

The blood now critically proof, neural cells fatally quenched
Drowning in spilt retention, hepatic tissue ferments

Contamination, foul circulation
Alcohol force fed, goes straight to your head
Brain tissue damaged, fused with alcohol sewage
In a stupor you die, your brain lobes you fry

13. Genital Grinder II

[Instrumental]

14. Hepatic Tissue Fermentation

Orally force fed, until cirrhosis is induced
Fatal renal failure, bleeds like a sluice
Spewing blood as the gallbladder extrudes

Alcoholic poisoning, bloated lobules burst
Toxins flood the stomach, in diffluence submerged
Coughing waste as the wrecked colon tears

The blood now critically proof, neural cells fatally quenched
Drowning in spilt retention, hepatic tissue ferments

Poisoned retention, with intoxication
Inflamed nephrons burst, your condition’s getting worse
Chronically diffused, your liver you will lose

Bodily distillation, as emerged flesh reacts
With alcoholic contents in your urinal tract
Dripping fluid as the decrepit appendix weeps

Matter turns to fluid, intoxicating ablution
Bilary dehydration, innards to solution
Bleeding urine as the inflamed bladder rips

The blood now critically proof, neural cells fatally quenched
Drowning in spilt retention, hepatic tissue ferments

15. Exhume To Consume

Grimly I dig up the turfs
To remove the corrupted stiffs
Trying to contain my excitement
As I desecrate graveolent crypts
Fingers claw at coffin lids
Eager festal exhumation
Hugging your wry, festered remains
With post-humous joy and elation
Body snatched, freshly interred
Whatever takes my fancy
To satisfy my gratuitous pica
My culinary necromancy
Scrutinised then brutalised
My forensic inquisition is fulfiled
My recipe is now your epitaph
Be it fried, boiled or grilled

I devour the pediculous corpse
Whetting my palate as I exhume
The festering stench of rotting flesh
Makes me drool as I consume

Caskets I grate
My larder’s a grave
I’m sickly obsessed with the badly decomposed
Rotten remains I eat
Purulent meat
What a funeral feast, putrid reek

Weeping tissue is stripped
Pus dribbles from my lips
Pulverising this pustular chaff
Butchering up morgue’s makes me laugh

Ulcerated flesh I munch
Rotting corpses are my lunch
On bones I love to crunch on the badly decomposed
Shrivelled innards I lick
The corpse’s head I kick
Crumbling shreds I pick, eat the stiffs

Rancid flesh, slaughter the dead
Caskets exhumed
Corpses disinterred, graves disturbed
To consume

Bereaved relatives are not amused
As on their dear departed I feverishly consume

Slavering worms, decomposure burns
Corrosion born, as bacteria gnaw

Desecrate
Precipitate from the muddy grave
Macerate
Eviscerate

Caskets I grate
My larder’s a grave
I’m sickly obsessed with the badly decomposed
Rotten remains I eat
Purulent meat
What a funeral feast, putrid reek

Saponified fats, nibbled by rats
Freshly exhumed
Deep down six feet is where I like to eat
Human flesh to consume