Where does madness begin? Is it in the mind of the Crimson-Claw Beast? Or in the thoughts of the very-cunning dwarf? Many centuries ago, these were my thoughts, Until the unholy figure approached me. A-killing I went, legs torn off, Testicles trodden on, buttocks chewed. The victims hung by their ankles, The latches attached to their heads. Slowly crushing as their ribs burst for air. Chilling wind as they screech for their lives. Grovel, you horrid people, stupid filthy dirt. The machine starts to whirr as the pigs scream. I laugh as they crush: The feast begins. Gorge on the slaughter, Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Incisors cut through the cranium, Grabbing the brain, hurting the victim. (Very Good.) Hung up to bleed, bleed to death. By the hand of the Bad Man. Dark in the eye, terrified of the crab. It moves towards us slowly, carefully, sinisterly. What can they do, but pray to the Holy Black Necrobeast. More will die, more will be tortured, More is never enough. Father dies, Mother crushed, Jimmy twisted, Little Mary cries, Machine comes nearer, Little Mary sliced, Blood everywhere. Machine moves on crushing and disembowelling. Relatives in shock, as they flee for freedom. Never, Never shall they be happy again. Here comes the machine, A-killing, a-killing......Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
