The Collection

I hope you like the bitter taste

Of my hands creating art with your face

Been on your scent for days

It's entertaining how you thought you would slip away

I make art from the corpses

Lined up in my basement

Enter the diary of a dope fiend

Whose favorite drug is hacking and murdering

You're the sickest creation

My eyes have ever seen

Your lies are pathetic

It's disgusting you ever touched me

Putrid waste drip slowly from their bodies

Decomposing

Mold grows from the maggots and the flies

Disgusting

Displays of pure merciless, torture and evil waste

Scraping the features and the flesh from your fucking face

I hope you like the bitter taste

Of my hands creating art with your face

Been on your scent for days

It's entertaining how you thought you would slip away

I hope you like the bitter taste

Of my hands creating art with your face

Been on your scent for days

It's entertaining how you thought you would slip away

Lips sewn together so you can't scream

Eyelids removed so you can look at me

Lips sewn together so you can't scream

Eyelids removed, bitch, look at me now

(This is what you'll get)

Entering the grasp of a masked killer

(This is what you'll get)

When you fuck with a psychopath

There was no accident in my plans

Of dismantling your body to pieces

There was no accident in my plans

Of dismantling your body to pieces

Torn limb from limb

Like lamb to the slaughter

Dismembered flesh

Creating my masterpiece