1. BACKSTREET BLUDGEON

Everything's black,
Grabbed from the back,
In the boot of the car,
Lights out after dark.

Hung up, cut up, fucked like a pig,
The dark in my mind wants to taste every limb,
Hung up, cut up and fucked like a pig,
Just to taste your flesh before I put my dick in it.

King of the litter, spawn of the scum.

Narcissistic, psychopathy,
No word could even describe me,
Possessed by demons, demonic entities,
Through my eyes of the Devil, I'm just a lump with a heartbeat.

Narcissistic, psychopathy,
No word could even describe me,
Possessed by demons, demonic entities,
Through my eyes of the Devil, I'm just a lump with a heartbeat.

It's not under my control, it's meant to be,
I hear nothing but him, through his eyes I see,
Me devouring whores for eternity,
There's nothing else but pleasure in it for me.

I'm paid to kill, but I fuck for free,
Backstreet bludgeon down in my alley.

I'm paid to kill, but I fuck for free,
Backstreet bludgeon down in my alley.

Cunt on my wrists, fist-deep in the bitch,
Only a rip will be fixed with a stitch.

Reign upon me.


2. CHAINSAW HERETIC

Peeling off skin for a fucking living,
Placing your skulls on my bedposts,
Designer dress made from human flesh,
And a cold bloody mask to match it.

Peeling off skin for a fucking living,
Placing your skulls on my bedposts,
Designer dress made from human flesh,
And a cold bloody mask to match it.

Furniture made of skin,
Not using it would be a sin,
Human cunt in a box,
This torture's not gonna stop.

Nipple-studded belt,
Measured for my victim,
Screaming isn't gonna help,
Bodybags by my side,
Chainsaw never leaves my sight,
Nowhere left for you to hide.

I adore the way your face fits mine like it was destined to be,
Using your skull as a cereal bowl,
Is the way I fucking roll.

Peeling off skin for a fucking living,
Placing your skulls on my bedposts,
Designer dress made from human flesh,
And a cold bloody mask to match it.

Dragging your body into the basement,
To reveal a pile of rotting flesh,
A pyramid of bodies take up half the storage,
And you're just adding to my collection.

Wearing your skin as a suit,
Makes me feel so colossal,
The gift I get from real life death,
Is what bounds me to my chainsaw.

As the malodour leaks out the front door,
It's a race against time before I get found.

Until I get found...