| He takes his time
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| When he stabs the boy to death
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| He keeps slashing and slicing
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| Even after his last breath
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| Ill-fated gods are given praise
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| Whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face
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| Gaping wounds gushing blood and gore
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| Covering the pentacle on the floor
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| No way to die at that age
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| Slaughtered before his sister’s eyes
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| Staring from the cage
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| Relieved, for the witch’s voice
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| Now whispers and laughs
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| The killer leaves the room
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| But comes back with an axe
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| He chops up the corpse
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| Tosses his body parts into plastic bags
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| Drags them to the garden outside
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| To be buried
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| In an unmarked grave on this night
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| The poor girl who has lost her mother
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| Is now forced to bury
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| What’s left of her dismembered brother
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| A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden
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| Buried next to the others
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| In the backyard of death himself
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| Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag
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| She had never seen
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| Such a terrible bloodbath before
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| Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel
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| She’s forced to clean
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| The lugubrious mess off the floor
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| Asking the murderer what will happen with her life
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| He answers
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| «You will serve me as my slave
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| Until your inevitable sacrifice
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| For the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill»
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| It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath
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| A fine meal of beans, bread, meat, and some wine
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| Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day
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| Then the killer has something special to say
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| «I saved your brother’s most valuable part
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| Before the burial I cut out his precious little heart
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| Swallowing the souls of the victims
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| Their hearts are what I eat
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| Your brother’s soul has now been devoured
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| So tell me… did you like the meat?» |