Morbus Chron - Ways of Torture

Ways of Torture..

Caught within a wooden box
With small holes to breath
Taking me somewhere else to die
There my life will cease

Hanging from the ceiling
With my arms around my back
Shoulders dislocated
Faint from pain, all is black
Dreaming of salvation, beauty, life and hope
Waking up by whippings
Fuck, I'm still hanging from a rope

Tube down my throat
Feeding me fat, feeding my goat
Feeding me more
Stomach explodes, gore all over the floor

Dragged through fat and goat
To a room as a doctor takes note
Rodents munch on my leg
With dislocated shoulders I beg
Eaten by the Rats

Ways of Torture..