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Only tools and corpses in an easy game |
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I find live people and |
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I play with them |
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I love a scaloel or a stitch or too |
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And the way they cry as the needles pulled through |
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I love operations and the beautiful stench |
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Dissected slowly on my bench |
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Sewn up punctures and gaping holes |
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Keeping them alive so they can feel it all |
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Only tools and corpses |
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Then you open up the wounds where the blood has clot |
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Draining their fluid through beakers and pots |
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No senses left as their blood's sucked dry |
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Kiss them goodnight and wave them goodbye |
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Only tools and corpses, only tools and corpses work |
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Only tools and corpses, only tools and corpses |
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Opened gashes and visible bone shown |
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Terrified corpses unable to moan now |
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Bloody chunks of my human sacrifice |
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Pulled apart like helpless laboratory mice |
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Laying their cold organs on my skin |
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Fingering the holes where |
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I pushed steel rods in |
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Stroking the liver kidneys and heart |
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Human dissection is a game an art |
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We've got some half priced livers sliced |
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Miles and miles of entrails diced |
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Tortured with |
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Bon Jovi and |
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David Bowie |
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LPs I've killed thingy and whats-his-name (all my victims look the same) |
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And kept hold of the eyeballs of a mush from |
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Shepherds |
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Bush A bloody fucking mess - |
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All over my nice clean vest |
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Only corpse work |
