Vulgar Delusions from Grand Wormwood by Hate Inclination

Vicious impulse plucking at my nerves
Drunkenly tripping over toppled bottles
Dusted off with keys in hand
Out into the cold fog for more
Blurred street lights shaking in my vision
Ignorant to the swaying and scraping on the curb
Breath of rank yeast and stale malt
Hazy corner store memory blends with all the rest
Ridden penniless but with a cushion for the night
The morning will bring the drive to scrounge
For now my golden treasure sates me
I can forget the paranoid struggle awaiting
Rollicking in deep inebriation
Vulgarity and profane exploits abound
Total disrespect for reputation
Beyond separation from the sober self
Gripping cold aluminum in hand
Final drops dribble down my chin
Frozen hours of night disguised by drunken warmth
Accompanied by unfathomable dismay

• Metal
• brutal death metal
• death metal
• guttural
• slamming brutal death metal
• Fresno