One more victim is all I need,
I knew I'd succumb to the sickness inside.
A deranged perversion like mine is too hard to hide,
Sneak up on my last, she’s waiting for the 9.15 bus.
The only lift she’ll get is straight onto my cock.
Pointless killing is what I live for,
defiled, despoiled cunts and whores,
remnants of human gore,
blood Splatter and bits on the floor.
I love the dark energy of death,
so lots of dead cunts decorate my walls.
Like pieces of art on display,
they speak of pain.
I can’t even get comfortable in my bed,
my mind ticks and turns, my body squirms.
In-between the pile of burnt corpses in my room.
Cremated after i fuck them,
I like the smell of cadavers cooking in my kitchen.
Making my mouth water,
eating burnt skin, cock stuffed in.
They can never leave again,
always inside of me or I’m always inside of them.
They can never leave again,
always inside of me or I’m always inside of them.
Disgusted by these festered and infected cunts,
cadavers are piled high from the ground.
Fermented holes lay all around,
filthy whores ready to fucking pound.
Fuck!
Delusions to consume, illusions to abuse.
None of you will go to waste,
almost every part of a carcass is recyclable.
I’m insane.
Human skin woven sheets to keep me warm,
I sculpt bones into utensils to eat the left over parts.
Dead whores hair to wipe my fucking arse,
I spend my days ripping the dead apart.
Ripping the dead apart.
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
|
