Autopsy

It's love of the dead
Arising from her sleep
To the sweet smell of decay
Lying in a coffin
Dead flesh she craves
There's kissing, of course, caressing,
blood drinking, the smell, the attraction
Morbid lust must be satisfied
In the shadows she must hide
Entering the sacred tomb
To fuck those who have died
When you lie on some bodies,
blood comes out of their mouth,
and the weight of my body pushes it out.
That's called purcing
Kissing the flesh
So dead and cold