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Fit for an Autopsy - The Process of Human Extermination cover art
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The Process of Human Extermination

(2011)
TypeStudio Full-length
GenresDeathcore
LabelsBlack Market Activities
Album rating :  93.8 / 100
Votes :  4
Lyrics > F > Fit for an Autopsy Lyrics (10) >

The Process of Human Extermination Lyrics

(10)
Submitted by level Kenneth Gil       Last modified by level Besi Karat
1. The Conqueror (4:14)
We'll tear this whole fucking world apart.
Condemn the crown, deny your faith,
And kill the messenger.
Embrace the end with open arms.
Watch the sky turn black as we cease to exist.
The sign of the son of man will appear in the sky,
And all of the nations of earth will mourn.
We will tear this fucking world apart,
Searching for salvation.
We will tear this fucking world apart,
In the face of damnation.
We've been given every chance
To put an end to this insanity.
Have we lost our faith in god,
Or has he lost his faith in humanity?
Maybe it ishim who does not believe
In the ever failing will of man.
The ability to change is but a choice
Not a destiny placed in our hands.
Punishment for taking everything for granted.
Never ending sickness, absolute chaos,
All the nations of the earth will mourn.
Pestilence,famine, war, hell on earth.
Your day of judgement approaches.
None spared by the hands of the conquerer.
Beneath the wings of the raven, a new beginning.
Rising from the ashes of toppled empires standing on
The broken backs of fallen giants.
We will rejoice in the guilt.
It is our nature to destroy.
We will tear this whole fucking world apart.
Searching for salvation,
We will tear this fucking world apart,
In the face of damnation,
We'll cease to exist.
2. The Colonist (2:59)
Where does the setting sun go to rest?
Go to rest?
The darkest days come and go,
They never seem to end.
Inhuman, inhumane, inane existence.
Barely existing. Surviving.
Reviving a world that has been dead for years.
Blood sweat and tears.
Disinformation and fear.
We carry on like we serve a purpose.
Just a decaying gear in a machine,
Built to destroy itself from the inside out,
Bleeding from the mouth,
Calling out your name, carving out your hate.
Alone and breathing,
The same stagnant air the rats exhale.
Pushing through the waste,
The shallow graves.
Hoping to find a cure to cleanse the filth
Of the human race.
Expose the skull.
Leave the brain and pray it never stops dreaming.
Expose the bone, leave the heart
And pray it never stops beating.
Failure is not an option,
It's the only way out.
How long until it crumbles?
How much longer can we last?
Do we even have a choice?
Or do we stand a chance?
We place our faith and trust in the
Hands of heartless fucking liars,
So we can sleep at night.
And hope we never wake up.
Never wake up.
You can't control us all.
You'll never kill us all.
Failure is not an option.
It's the only way out.
You can't control us all.
You'll never fucking kill us all.
3. The Desecrator (2:50)
Forgive me father for i have sinned.
Taken the life of a man who stole
The innocence from the unprotected.
A storm of light, a jarring revelation.
A right of passage, justified fucking bloodshed.
No forgiveness heaven denied.
No restitution, rightful conviction.
Hell embraces the patron saint with all its wrath. Distorting the lines of your selfish redemption,
To exalt your final resting place in heaven.
Lecherous impurity,
The towers of the holy conceal their ill intentions,
The godless apostle trembles in
The wake of the coming fire.
The stones of the great hall
Crumbling will forever echo with
The choirs of the fallen man.
Soaked in the lies.
The blood of the divine,
Flowing like rivers,
In waves of soiled wines.
Crushed by the tide.
The blood of the divine rains down
On chapels built to fall by design.
Forgive me father, i seek no atonement.
No sympathy for a man who stands
As burning effigy of betrayal.
A storm of light, a jarring revelation.
A right of passage.
Justified fucking bloodshed.
No forgiveness heaven denied.
No restitution, rightful conviction.
Hell embraces the patron saint with all its wrath.
Soaked in the lies.
The blood of the divine,
Flowing like rivers,
In waves of soiled wines.
A man with no masters.
I won't bow down to a false architect.
I'll never kneel beneath your feet.
Paralyzed by the torment.
Followers of faith stand drenched in sin.
Justified fucking bloodshed.
No forgiveness.
Heaven denied.
Justified fucking bloodshed.
No redemption, no forgiveness, heaven denied
4. The Juggernaut (2:53)
The harvest of the human seed,
The earth is a corpse field,
Collected on the wagons,
Catapulted into mass graces.
Foul air corrodes the skin.
The trumpets sound the alarm
Of the overwhelming onslaught.
Deep gaps do open, devouring the dead.
Horribly distorted faces leaking decay.
No conflict resolution,
No bond to fix the fault lines.
Take the breath from the earth.
And again and again the clouds will come.
Split the sky, consume the drowning horizon.
Fire red as it flashes, but does not thunder.
Embrace the hour of devastation.
Bringer of war.
Take the breath from the earth.
Bringer of war.
Take the breath from the earth.
There will never be peace.
We will never be safe again.
No conflict resolution,
No bond to fix the fault lines.
Take the breath from the earth.
No history to tell,
No legacy to leave behind,
No future generation.
Ake the breath from the earth.
Funeral for a failing race.
A mass of graves where the soil bleeds.
Reborn from the rotted caskets.
This is the harvest of the human seed.
The earth is a corpse field.
5. The Wolf (2:29)
Stalking the herd with a rapid sense of purpose.
The desperate hunter smells the fear
In the fleeting cattle.
Driven by survival,
And the sound by the children crying.
Surrounded by flies, maggots, and parasites.
Waiting to feed on the bodies of the dying.
The old wolf with silver in his eyes,
Hears more than you see and knows it is him
Who is not truly blind.
The cracked teeth never fail to chew trough the bone.
Guardian of nothing.
The rotting earth is his throne.
Convulsing in final word conversations.
Indulging in last supper death bed invitations.
The vultures tear at barren life.
Scavengers pick at the chalk lines of dry corpses
Disgust for all that's breathing and that's living. Decomposition of the wretched failure
We call our lives.
Watch them feed, a colony of fools.
Scraping at the plates of the lesser beings.
Insatiable impatience.
The wolf is foaming at the mouth.
The flock turns into a frenzy.
Bloodthirsty appetite.
Devolutionized through carnage piece by piece,
Bite by bite.
Process of human extermination.
Progress by impending elimination.
The wretched failure we call our lives.
6. The Consumer (2:42)
A desecration, a wasteland, a gluttons paradise.
A world infected, a breed emaciated,
A disgusting way of living life.
Ingested genetic pollution.
Bleed the well dry pulsing through the arteries.
Corroded swollen veins.
Wallow in the swill of the storm drain runoff,
Born blistered and sterilized.
Bloated chemical backslide,
Already drowning in the acid of the afterbirth.
The wheels are turning in the wrong direction.
The greatest of consumers.
The sow of the masses.
Unholy leaders of immoral sacrifice.
Foreseeable panic.
Devastation and havoc.
Pig and man as one the butchers block.
A desecration, a wasteland, a gluttons paradise.
A desecration, a wasteland, a gluttons paradise.
A world infected, a breed emaciated,
A disgusting way of living life.
Ingested genetic pollution.
Bleed the well dry, narrow corridors,
Slowly shrinking.
Close the doors, the floor is sinking.
The once proud face of man,
Embraced by hooks hung from the ceiling.
House of swine. Kingdom of dirt.
Feed the flies, gorging on the sewage of the earth.
Nothing but a smear on a timeline.
A shred of nothing, nothing.
House of swine. Kingdom of dirt.
Feed the flies, gorging on the sewage of the earth.
Shells of men, polluted worms.
Spineless hosts. Bones left to burn.
House of swine. Kingdom of dirt.
Feed the flies, gorging on the sewage of the earth.
7. The Locust (3:09)
Swarming in the streets.
Pulsing in the blood of late night locusts.
The sound of broken teeth and fingernails
Scraping on brick walls,
Piercing bones with worthless cures.
In between the tremors.
To subdue the necessity of living,
Only to return when the lights go out again.
Peel the skin back from my face.
Revel in the disease.
Drink from the rivers of rust.
Take shelter inside this house of overwhelming
Distress and disregard.
Hollow your soul with needles.
Pray for your own end.
While you wait for the pain to go away,
Every one else is watching you fade away.
Losing faith in hope and sleeping in the waste.
Product of a decaying race.
Heir to the throne of sympathetic apathy.
Purveyor of post traumatic medicinal practices.
If there ever was an end in sight,
You would only find it in an over dosage when you
Weren't even searching for it.
The roaches come when the lights go out.
The locusts feed when our time runs out.
8. The False Prophet (3:18)
What makes you think that
You're the only fucking one
Worthy of a throne in a kingdom of gold?
Selling your soul for the fortune in lies
That you have told.
False prophet of misery.
Feasting on the minds of the weak.
Twisting the words of dead men
To suit your perverse beliefs.
Disciple of dishonor.
Loyal heir of unjust grief.
Forked tongue and scales for skin.
You'll never see the light of day again.
King of all kings. Serpent divine.
Savior of fools. Martyr to none.
You will die for nothing. Father of bastards.
I am the executioner.
Mother of mercy, praise be to those
Who've died in vain.
Whose glorious conquest is this?
Whose failed crusade?
What lucid dreams of destiny.
You follow in your wake.
The shadows of the trampled tombs
Will forever haunt your steps.
A cowards life you lead.
A liar and a thief.
The despair you reap has
Sowed itself inside your veins.
King of all kings. Serpent divine.
Savior of fools. Martyr to none.
You will die for nothing.
Father of bastards. I am the executioner.
Mother of mercy, praise be to
Those who've died in vain.
You'll never see the light of day again.
False prophet of misery.
Feasting on the minds of the weak.
Twisting the words of dead men
To suit your perverse beliefs.
Disciple of dishonor.
Loyal heir to the unjust grief.
Waiting for your chance to be crucified
On a monument of shit.
9. The Jackal (3:22)
Just like a curse.
A walking plague of gluttony.
Ripping through the stomachs of the needless greedy.
The rotting apple that we consume every day.
The decomposing flesh that serves
As armor for the hungry.
We are ravenous, starving for tragedy.
We are war and peace.
We are self destruction.
We are life and death.
We are suicide.
No one gets out alive.
You are nothing but an empty, wasted life.
You'll never fucking make it out alive.
Prisoners to our own pathetic lives.
Existing only as guiltless parasites.
Dead man walking in desperation.
Waiting for a change.
Begging for the end,
While you make your peace with god,
I wage war with the rest of the world.
10. The Executioner (4:38)
Undeserving and rightfully so for all that is good.
There is a flaw in the soul.
A misstep in the art of creation.
Great evils that harbor in the minds of man.
We go on searching for god,
When we have finally lost ourselves.
Congregations of hysterical witnesses.
No longer blind to the visions in our dreams.
Lamented in the thought,
This day would be your last.
Crippled by the fact that you have been left behind to
Serve as a reminder
That the faithless would never be forgiven.
Loathsome wanderers. Nomadic incompetence.
Failure to survive.
Faceless advocates of disgrace. A race of scum.
Every citizen, child, scholar, and teacher.
Cursed at birth.
Swallowed by its very existence.
Only in the end as our ashes escape into the atmosphere.
A beautiful and righteous ether encapsulates the world. There will be peace in the silence.
There will be no more.
May the ancestors of our once
Great civilizations mourn us in the lighted sky,
For we all rest in ash,
Deep in the blackest darkest depths
Of our very own hell.
You will never hold the hand of god.
You will never hold the hand of god.
You will never hold the hand of god.
You will never hold the hand of god.
For it is hell,
Not the devil that i have held inside my heart.
It is the guilt, not the ghost that will haunt me.
Every time i close my eyes,
I remain within this soil.
As a servant of my own sorrow.
They see me as i am.
I am nothing.
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