Zachariah Holte - Secret Practice | Текст песни

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Secret Practice

Do you value control?
Is your sickness a compulsion inclined towards flesh?
What gifts do you accrue from this secret practice?
What role does pornography play in this morbid conceptsis?

And do you realize your fascination borders upon the malignant and absurd?
The key to your satisfaction derives from the automatic sensations of sexual rapture.

During the repulsive nature of your work, the links at which you will go to excite yourself,
do you recollect these acts of cruelty within sentiment?
Be there no limitations to the world of pain and affliction!
What sinister declaration will further enliven your embellishments?

Can you begin to realize the damaging extend of this lascivious enterprise?
Fueled by desperation in a drunken madness.
Do you have the will to abnegate this distorted celebration?

Man must beguile himself, yes you told me this; all your beauty defiled in the end.
Long behold!
Your body within this kingdom.
Long behold!
Bygone towards inception.
Man must beguile himself, yes you told me this; all your beauty defiled in the end.
Aperture at which I lay, my body unfolds then triplicates.
The point of inception begins with your hands as you manipulate my fucking mouth agape.
Armature at which I burn, your flesh inflamed, my flesh incinerates.
The point of inception begins with your shame as you masturbate my fucking skull cavitates.
Impresario of human suffering conduct my pain while I beg.

- Zachariah Holte

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