Impaled - Spirits Of The Dead

Your ribcage is avulsed
Mangled, chopped, and hewn
Organ meats have been sundered
And about your coffin strewn
Latent germs deliquesce your guts
Fermenting your simmering brine
Upon this loathsome, steaming mass
I'm predisposed to dine

Dehydrated liver is quenched with grog
In a gurgulating froth, dissolved
In purulence ruptured, your bowel has turned septic
Your innards are now devolved

Intestines turn to slush
Vitriolic mush

Inebriating fumes, mind altering effluvium
An intoxicating funeral binge on post-digestive chum
Carbonated gastric stew
Excreted, distilled, and imbibed
A nidorous concoction fermented to proof
The dead I tap, siphon, and grind

Spirits of the dead
Sip the rotting head
Repulsively imbued
With necro-holic brew