Gramie DeeDevourer Of The Flesh
Dark Rock HyperLink
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song created                                

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
song updated                               

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
stations playing this song              
Apocalypse Radio
Golden Kayak Nominees 2017
Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 6
TOUGH FM - a Desperado Revue station
IndieMusicPeople

 















From my band Morgueazm 2001 to current day

Gramie Dee: Lyrics, Music, Guitars
Brett Avok: Drums, Vocals
Dark Mark: Keyboards, Bass

From the album Fun With Formaldehyde 2001
Devourer of the Flesh

I
I feel my hunger rising
My need to drink the blood
My urge cannot be conquered
My curse will be for good

II
I hide deep in the shadows
I cannot quell my need
My children gather to me
And I will take my feed

(Chorus)
I am devourer of the flesh
I am devourer of the flesh
I am devourer of the flesh
I am devourer of the flesh

III
I taste your crimson nectar
It makes me feel so strong
My power brings you closer
With me where you belong

(Chorus)

IV
Your body is my pleasure
A plaything for my need
Torn flesh between my fingers
I yearn to make you bleed

(Chorus) x
Song Comments

Apocalypse Radio
...a "MUST" Have ...for The Apocalypse!!! -M-


Golden Kayak Nominees 2017
Hard Rock


Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 6
may be matter of fact now but was futter of magd then; Cattermole Hill, ex- mountain of flesh was reared up by stress and sank under strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout; entoutcas for a man, but bit a thimble for a maid; blimp, blump; a dud letter, a sing a song a sylble; a byword, a sentence with surcease; while stands his canyouseehim frails shall fall; was hatched at Cellbridge but ejoculated abrood; as it gan in the biguinnengs so wound up in a battle of Boss; Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you've gone the way of the Danes; variously catalogued, regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a quacker's mating, a wenches' sandbath; the same homoheatherous checkinlossegg as when sollyeye airly blew ye; real detonation but false report; spa mad but inn sane; half emillian via bogus census but a no street hausmann when allphannd; is the handiest of all andies and a most alleghant spot to dump your hump; hands his secession to the new patricius but plumps plebmatically for the bloody old centuries; eats with doors open and ruts with gates closed;


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