Nativity ObsceneA Nursery Chyme

<br>[Musick &amp; Lyrixxx - Matt Harvey]<br><br>Calcified infant is a breach birth debacle<br>Natal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehyde-filled bottle<br>Caesarean section reveals the ghastly tot<br>An ossified infant, in its womb borne to rot<br><br>Livid and stiff ere its first breath is claimed<br>The rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimed<br>Cold, dead and hard as it`s exhumed from the womb<br>The uterus its cradle, and its moist fetid tomb...<br><br>Only scalpels left for playthings<br>Swaddling clothes bloody but not from chafing<br>Baptism by embalming solution<br>As the trocar facilities the cold blood`s dilution...<br><br>Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceived<br>Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrieved<br>Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dry<br>Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one dies<br><br>Birth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her guts<br>The morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cut<br>Another tiny life that ended before it could begin<br>Another piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin...<br><br>Neither gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lips<br>Placenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord rips<br>Morbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little ears<br>As the dry-eyed infant incites parents to bitter tears...<br><br>Obstetric atrocity<br>With a casket for a crib<br>Nursery for an autopsy<br>Body bag for a bib...<br><br>Hush little baby, don`t say a word<br>Mama`s going to have to get a casket reserved<br>But if your body is too decomposed<br>The coffin door will have to stay closed<br><br>A babe in her arms<br>Not safe from harm<br>When the water breaks, the cradle will rot<br>A nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and <br>forgot...<br><br>[Lead - Matt]<br><br>Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk<br>Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother`s milk<br>Silent baby rattles stilled<br>The doctor`s gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled<br><br>Morbid anatomy technicians are the child`s only playmates<br>Callously dissecting, the infantile inanimate<br>A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one`s tomb and trundle<br>As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle...<br><br>Dead before ever being alive to die<br>Eyes closed forever ere the first tear could dry<br>Mouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cry<br>Dissected infant on the table, dead-cut and dry...<br><br>Newborn fatality<br>Whose playpen is a slab<br>Lifeless nativity<br>Diminutive toes to be tagged...<br><br>Now I lay you down to sleep<br>Your putrid flesh not long to keep<br>If you should rot before you wake<br>Then leave your corpse for the worms to take<br><br>In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgue<br>Sobs are heard from the maternity ward<br>But from the mouth of babes, no sound escapes<br>In this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes...