Inpropagation
Carcass Lyrics

Insipid fumes bellow from the atrabilious chimney
Weak and uninteresting smoke rises from the melancholic chimney

Whilst in the sanctified crevet I calmly pillage and rake
I steal undisturbed in the sacred coffin

For hot dry powdered human slag
I want the dry and hot remains of humans

Still steaming in the crematorium's grate
The remains are still hot and smoking in the furnace

Bio-organic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates
The organic matter is bubbling and drying, leaving bones, tar, and fat behind

For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate
I use this harmful gardening method to cultivate crops

Your mortal mechanism dies, in nutrients rich
When you die, your body is full of nutrients

In the hallowed turf you lie, just for the taking
Your dead body lies in the soil, ready to be taken

Charred sinew's as good as lime, no phosphates do I need
The burnt tendons are just as useful as lime, and I don't need any phosphates

Deteriorated flesh used as top-soil, to replenish and nourish seed
The decayed flesh is used as soil to nourish and replenish the crops

Spreading this human potash, as ash matured
I spread this human ash as matured potash

Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead for use as manure
I recycle my harvested crops by using the dead as manure

Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed
People cry, but the soil still needs to be nourished

[Lead fills: Dust in the mausoleum by W.G. Steer]
Instrumental break with a song title reference

Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns
I gather and spread the spilled contents of urns

Every morsel that glows like ember on the fire
Every single piece that looks like burning ember

Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch
Putting out any hope of a beautiful farewell

These charred chassis desired
I want these burnt body parts

Exequiet rites now performed, a coronach sooting up the flu
Funeral rites are performed, blackening the chimney

Enter my execrable inferno, even in the after-life there's work to do
Come into my hateful underworld, there is still work to be done even after death

The nitrogen content's high, but the flesh is weak
The flesh may be weak, but it has a high nitrogen content

At the graveside mourners cry, you're never to wake again
People cry at the grave, knowing the dead will never wake up

Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed
The burnt meat rejuvenates the soil, helping the crops grow

Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plant-feed
I use cremated bodies as my resource to feed the plants

Ploughing this abhorrent human manure
I plow through this disgusting human manure

Seeding my rich harvest, bring out your dead, for the soils to devour
I use this rich harvest to plant crops, and I need more dead bodies for the soil to consume

Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed
The dead are bled dry because the soil needs to be nourished

And there's still no rest for the dead
Even after death, there is no rest for the dead

I propagate, dust in the grate
I spread my crops and ashes

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops
Ashes and dust are mixed with water and sprayed on crops

Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture with active fertile rot
Charcoal, fats, flesh, and soot are nourishing the land with active and fertile decomposition

Incumbent, latent calories are spent
The inert and hidden calories are used up

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust renewing the land with corpses corrupt
Ashes and dust are renewing the land with corrupted corpses

Mortuary scrapings, hearses a must, to the hot hearth the deceased are trussed
I scrape the mortuary remains, and the hearses are necessary to bring the dead to the hot furnace

Harvesting the defouled, to fertilize my soil
I harvest the defiled remains to fertilize my soil

Rejuvenating the spent with my fecundate spoils
I use my fertile spoils to rejuvenate the used land

Reaping the gone, to nourish the land
I use the dead to nourish the land

Replenishing exhausted pasture with my uncanny sleight of hand
I cleverly replenish the exhausted land with my method

Restoring the unnatural balance, sowing my seed
By using my method, I restore the disturbed balance and plant my crops

Defalcating the departed, I rapt and glean
I steal from the departed, eagerly taking the remains

So I recite my contrite lament, lacrimation for the dead
I say my sorrowful apology and shed tears for the dead

Their rest which I disturb
I disrupt their peaceful rest

Where should stand row upon row of cold grey remembrance stones
There should be rows of grey tombstones in this area

My cash crops now grow
My valuable crops now flourish in this area