Virally Yours

The sound of vomiting to my ears like singing
 Now I am beginning to become erect
 With illness I am obsessed in the beds of the fallen I rest
 A 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 fulfill 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 a 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
 How quickly life does fade away
 But a flip of the river mans 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" his 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 fingers aims ever so true
 The orgins 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