Devirgination Studies Lyrics - Whitechapel

Now that I have my trophy of your anatomy 

Your stiff can be excised aberrantly 

Convulsions transpire you're seeping suppuration 

Our intimacy 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 

Another whore to seek to fondle and misuse 

Back to the grave to exhume again 

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