The Butcher

The Butcher is here, feeding his sickness; a psycho is on the loose out on the streets, looking for victims, filthy inferior whore Society's rules, have altered a bit: No conscience, no rules, no pity, all boundaries gone As he Butchered the bitch and stabbed her to death dragging her trough the dirt Let's go to the shed and rip of your skin, Butchered like a pig Society's rules, have altered a bit: No conscience, no rules, no pity, all boundaries gone Morbid ways to pleasure himself, he continues his sickening work An orgy of blood, dismemberment, gore, the massacre taste like more The sexual need for dissecting girls, a lust he cannot control The table is soaked with blood and pain, the horror is beyond belief Eviscerate in tombs of flesh, death is all I see Wasting blood, ripping through flesh, meat factory Welcome to the Farm of death and meet the legend inside, the king of dissection in his palace of gore Pig Farm Butchery