Scraps for the Pigs Songtext
von Flayed Disciple

Stalking on the hillside, follow the tracks, unsuspecting victims will fall for the trap
Thinking of the way their flesh will taste as I hunt, I′ll have to rip the unborn child right out of her cunt
Finding prey is simple, so many are weak, straying form the path they are so easy to seek
Now I drop them where they stand with blows to the head, I want the meat still fresh, don't want them dead

Fleshing your carcass, salting your hide
With a twisted grin
Ornaments born from infanticide
Wearing your skin

Stifling the screaming, a rag in the mouth, a bloodthirsty monster from the west of the south
Dragged across the shattered slate, shredding her skin, back in the cabin, blood soaked clothes in the bin
Hung up on the meat hooks, through her breasts
Slicing through her throat and bleed her dead


Fleshing your carcass, salting your hide
With a twisted grin
Ornaments born from infanticide
Wearing your skin

Killed for their tender meat. Scraps for the pigs to eat
They′re just food to me and nothing more. Fill my guts, shit them out, just fecal gore
Wretched. Encrusting. Putrid. Disgusting

Floors covered with congealed fluids, air is thick with flies
Organs adorn the walls, a grim tapestry, carpets filled with lice
Lounging in my filth and putrescence, I will masturbate
Nothing can stop the hunger I feel with human upon my plate

Evil, I am the beast
Heartless, eat the deceased