otrdiena, 2010. gada 20. jūlijs

Point Of View

Slow pulse - all that's left
Day long gone
Rest assured - it will hurt
Glad to say so

Nomads, roamers, vagabonds
Castaway souls
Slashed, gutted, grilled
In my basement

Beating heart pumping blood
I am beating you
My minion, worthless flesh
I am thy lord


He sang this lullaby to himself
Every single night to sleep
He hoped to be that killer
To have that power, might

Oh, mommy saw nothing, hehehe
She swore on her mother's grave
That her baby couldn't be THE
West wood Surgeon Butcher

But when she saw
The room of her heir
Oh in tears she broke
And denounced him at instant


But where is he?
Where should I seek him?
I must find that fiend
And put him to the sleep

I admire him for his skills
But he is a monster I do know
Soon this will end, I will avenge
All those poor souls out there

No one ever told me how hard
It's to find a serial killer
No one ever will, I am a afraid
Got to keep up the appearances


Hey! Hush! I am here...
In your head...

Nav komentāru:

Ierakstīt komentāru