Killer’s Feast - text

People turn their backs on you
Don t they like your jacket's cut?
They just know you through and through
And the stench of your black thought....

In your presence silence rings
People always think: 'alarm!'
Cause your chatter has no charm

And your art is an art of murder
And your hobby is to burn and rape
Welcome to a killer's feast

Conversation quickly dries
Your speech got the devil's hooks
Too scared to look in your eyes
Do they value different books?

And with broads you just do well
Some have not returned from dates
Local priest don't give you hell

And your art is an art of murder
And your hobby is to burn and rape
Welcome to a killer's feast

There once was a crooked man
Cruel, cold-blooded, bleak and vile
Beat his blackness? - no-one can
Fed on raw meat as a child

M 16 his childhood toy
Mutt and snake his mates for life
Your soft flesh he did enjoy
Slashed your carcass with a knife

And your art is an art of murder
And your hobby is to burn and rape
You are invited to...
You are invited to...
You are invited to...
You are invited to...
Oooo... you know...