The Butcher

He's got his victim, he's killing her slowly
He feels nothing except the ecstasy, the excitement

He is smearing his body with her blood

Butcher... Butcher...

With an axe he's chopping her body
The suffer
Doesn't express what he has done
But it's too late
She's stopped to breathe, her brain was shut
down
The butcher's standing over she and loud
laughing

It's not a man, it's a wild beast
Without any feelings and conscience
People like to watch his next victims
Son of a bitch with no response