No More Room in the Morgue

Welcome to my kingdom, my mountain of carcasses Some are fresh, some are very decayed Mortals keep dying, there's no where left to dig The bodies will rot where they lay Ecosystem of maggots and flies Rich soil filled with bones and worms The ground is covered with leakage of vital fluids You can taste the bodies just from the sight The constant smell of death keeps me alive The cold pale flesh keeps me sexually satisfied The sick desires of a necrophiliac There's no more room in the morgue, there's no where left to pile the bodies I suffocate from the stench of the rotting flesh There's no more room in the morgue Cause of deaths are undetermined, some are covered in stab wounds Some were not discovered for multiple weeks Bloated, exploded, intestines dangling from the rectum Their brains turn to gel and leak from their ears and nose Eye sockets start to sink within their skulls Deterioration before they are put to rest Welcome to my kingdom, my mountains of carcasses With all this time, and all these bodies I can teach myself more about the anatomy The taste of rotted blood, the puss of infections Incisions to the torso and the neck Experimentations, mutilations, disintegration, this landfill of rotting flesh There's no more room in the morgue This pile of meat is mine to hoard