Whitechapel - Devirgination Studies lyrics

Now that I have my trophy of your anatomy
Your stiff can be excised aberrantly
Convulsions transpire your seeping suppuration
Our intamacy is arcane to culture
These ethics I contain in my arsenal of pleasure
Fail to be appreciated

Your proposition isn't good enough
My expectations don't meet yours

In due time I'll dictate your vile form
Into my incapable hands and claim you for my own

You're born into these hands again

Send the slut back to Hell [4x]

Another whore to seek to fondle and misuse
Back to the grave to exhume again