Bowels Of Murder

Moon of Mons
Can you hear the screams
feeble, weak and asphyxiated
Lurid blade keeps grinding bones

In the grimy darkness
Near the River Hate
and the Path of Worry

Stream of sadness
As the haunted soul
Unearth the madness

Bowels of murder
Sweep the River Hate
And the Path of Worry

Stream of sadness
Obsessed, He will kill again

Butcher of Mons
Butcher of Mons
Savage mad lures the whores
To cut away with pain
Repetition, Past bears the same