Bodyfarm - 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