For every life I take, an ecosystem I create
Blood and guts consumes my life
I am the brutal gardener, I, quantity controller
No more insane than Jesus Christ

Forgive my humble abode
Rotting bodies clogging the commode
Please pardon the stench
And the trunk of a man lying on the workbench

Out by the shed
Are buzzing hives made of human heads
The gestation of larvae tells us
The time of death

Decomposition, an exhibition of life
That springs from tragedy
Degeneration, breakdown and maturation of DNA
The residue of death

The twilight falls on maggots burrowing in flesh
Dead, the dead now dead as can be
The cadaver now giving life harmoniously
A God, this makes me a God

This is absurd and quite obscene
The corruption of human beings
My back yard
Now a goddamned crime scene

I am the ying, I am the yang
Good and evil are one and the same
No more insane than Jesus Christ

The smell is part of the charm
When you live on a body farm
I walk with the stench of decay
Along corpse littered paths at the break of the day

Ah, the irony in being a killer
Yet in the crime solving community, I am a pillar
A corpse turns to mulch with a good roto-tiller
I kill for the good of man

Decomposition, a morbid demonstration
The cycle of life in all its majesty
Degeneration, curdling fermentation
Of heaps and heaps of human meat

The twilight falls on maggots burrowing in flesh
Dead, the dead now dead as can be
The cadaver now giving life harmoniously
A God, this makes me a God