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I've got the urge got the need
to kill someone and then succeed
I don`t care for who I kill
I only care a morgue to fill
Filled with hate, filled with rage
sickened thoughts, have no cage
many things, in my brain
sanity, in the drain

Psyckness, a head to drill
Psyckness, allways good
Psyckness, a pleasure ill
Psyckness, is my mood

I stab your heart with a fork
hang you uplike a pork
I like to see how you shout
as your life is running out
With an axe I chop your head
all the floor is going red
many parts of your brain
getting stuck in the drain

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