Fleshgrind - Derangement

I am your mind, I am your thought
Confined with my on disturbed existence
Through the sickening, supreme art of derangement

Regretfully, you disdain my art
As you become my next victim
That of death, and domination

You will soon see my developed system
I have called the supreme art of derangement
I control you
Waiting, hunting, so patiently
You're like a child, so naive to the fact

That I will strip you of life
Your ignorance is so pathetic
Strategically, to my advantage

In these depths that I call my mind
Desensitized to the fact that you are now dead
You lay there calm and quiet