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The Journal that was too cool for a title.
It's too cool for a title
Butchery
Your lifeless corpse hangs
We all watch for
The slaying to begin
Begin

Butchery- let me slice you up
Butchery- let me rape your pride
Butchery- let me butcher your soul
Butchery- let me begin

Before the doctor's embalm your stench
They gather around to check for a pulse
No movement in your heart, begin
Your lungs start to fill with spray

Butchery- I will cut you up
Butchery- I will make you an image
Butchery- As I cut your soul out
Butchery- I make my masterpiece

I pull out your organs
Drawing out the blood
I can smell the preperation
For the new mannequin

Butchery- I cut your insides
Butchery- I feel the sickness
Butchery- Rising image
Butchery- You're dead

Putting the final touches on
I sew your new look shut
Your eyes entrigue me
For my next move

Your eyes in the jar
Will be a use for the next
I'll send you down the line
For the next buyer, begin

Butchery- I've done my job
Butchery- I get paid
Butchery- I've done the job
Butchery- I get paid for butchering your souls





 
 
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