Guest
Excitement about, I almost cant wait Relax, I don’t want your baby, I already ate Thought I do tend to generally kill, kill things that don’t fight back I see this village, what does it hold What shall I butcher’em with fire or cold Running from me, sure you’d think He’s a pathological, bloodthirsty, homicidal maniac I kill kittens, and puppies and bunnies. I maim toddlers and teens and then more You see a wife, I see a widow But what then, cant you see, I kill for I want to incinerate and decapitate I want to melt, want to melt some faces Watching the peasant… oh what do they call it… ah grief I suppose that being undead, there is not much to life A soul is needed for loving and feeling How does this all not make me… ah what’s the word again…. heave You’ve nowhere to hide, nowhere to run Your village will burn like the heart of the sun With infinite glee, it’s going to be me, that slaughters the world How could I glare, into these eyes and then not stab them How could I stare at their loss and then not laugh I cut them in half, then i craft his head back onto his shoulders Or after I lop it, I make a puppet, on top of a stick I am a lord that is sometimes bored Have some urges and need to fulfill them After my mayhem I simply don’t…. what’s the word… care The stench in the air, the smell of the gore, the carnage for greater than any war My legacy, death becomes me, I’ll slaughter the world.
