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Self-released in limited numbers, only available by trading blood and/or hair for the cassette.

LYRICS:
HERE WE HAVE THE LEPERS! A HUNDRED BODIES MOVING AS ONE. SNEAKING TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD, WALKING CROUCHED IN THE DITCHES BESIDE THE ROYAL CHARIOTS; BESIDE THE CARAVANS OF WORTHY PEOPLE, LIKE SICK CATTLE. EVICTED FROM EYES, CONDEMNED TO A FILTHY CORNER OF ALL MINDS; THE FEATURELESS FACE IN THE MOVED AUDIENCE: THEY NEARLY SUFFOCATE TO DEATH BY EACH MINUTE. THEIR UNFINISHED YAWNS COLOUR EMPTY FACES IN WEIRD TONES.

THE VIRGINS MOCK THEMSELVES WITH OWN FINGERS. THE BLESSING HAND RETRACTS AND THE PALM CLOSES. THEY COVER THEIR GENITALIA IN FETID GALL AND PROCEED TO LOVE SLUM HOUNDS, AS THEY DO WITH MEN. THE BEASTS CONQUER THEIR MOIST VAGINAS - BESTIAL SEMEN COLOUR THEIR INTRUDED HOLES. TORRENTIAL SPOUTS OF BLOOD-CLOTTED PLASMA. THEIR PROLAPSED WOMBS MOANING LIKE A MILIARD ORGANS.

THIS IS THE BIRTH-SITE OF DEPRAVATION, WHERE IT’S MOTHER WRITHES IN LABOUR! THIS IS ALL SOURCE OF DEPRAVATION; WHERE PEOPLE LIVE BY IDEALS THAT ARE NOT THEIR OWN, AND WHERE THEY HAVE SUNKEN SLOWLY INTO THE QUICK-SANDS OF PASSIVE CONSENT, AND WORSE YET IS THE MOST HIDEOUS SUBLEVEL OF THIS DEPRAVATION; THE CESSPOOL WHERE VOICES DO NOT RING LOUD, AND THE FLAMING TONGUES WANE IN THE COLD AIR, WHERE SELF-DECEIT AND SELF-LOVE UNITE IN A MOST ABSURD, DOWNRIGHT TASTELESS MATRIMONY.

THEIR FEET STAND ON MURKY GROUND; THEIR FEET ALL SINK INTO THE ORDURE; THEIR WOMBS ARE BARREN, AND THEY STUTTER LAMENT. BENT-OPEN MOUTHS HAVE HAD THEIR TEETH SMASHED OUT; BODIES ARE RAPED OF SO-CALLED BEAUTY SLEEP. THEY FALTER THROUGH LIVING WORLDS AND AT THE SIGHT OF IT, SHED TEARS AND SOB. RAZOR WINDS BLOT PORTALS, BLOOD AND DIRT AND THEY ARE TERRIFIED! THEY CAN NOT BEAR THE WEIGHT OF TRUTH BECAUSE THEY FEEL PAIN WHEN THEIR ILLUSIONS SHATTER LIKE GLASS MIRRORS, ONCE REFLECTING THEIR UGLY FACES BUT NOW THE SHARDS CUT THEIR PINK FLESH; BLOOD SPURTS OUT; TEARS FALL; LIES SMOTHER, ALL GIVES WAY TO SUFFERING – FOR THESE YOKES ARE HEAVY, AND THEY CRUSH OUR SHOULDERS TO DUST, LEST ONE PREPARE.

BUT THIS IS NOT THEIR LIFE! THIS IS A RIVER DELTA OF UNFULFILLED HOPES - CRUSHING DESPAIRS - THE RUIN OF FAILURE AND DESERTION; THEY CAN NOT YET SEE ALL THEIR EMBERS BUT THEY ALL KNOW IT IS THERE SOMEWHERE; A LU-MINOUS SUN IN THE DARKNESS.

NOW! CONSUMED BY THE RETICENCE OF ALL DESERTS, IN VISIONS. THE SCENT OF CATASTROPHE EVER PERVADING THEIR NOSTRILS. THE VISION OF IMPENDING DOOM EVER BEFALLING THEIR EYES. THE TASTE OF EMBITTERED GALL EVER CONTAMINATING THEIR TONGUES. THE SOUND OF HOLOCAUST EVER DRONING THEIR EARS… THEIR WHOLE LIFES BECAME ACTS OF REBELLION; THEIR COMPLETE EXISTENCES ARE LIKE RAZOR BLADES RESTING DANGEROUSLY ON THE WRISTS OF TOMORROW'S CHILDREN... RAPED BEAUTY SLEEP…

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