---

Peeling off skin for a fucking living,

Placing your skulls on my bedposts,

Designer dress made from human flesh,

And a cold bloody mask to match it

Furniture made of skin,

Not using it would be a sin,

Human cunt in a box,

This tortures not-gonna-stop,

Nipple-studded belt,

Measured for my victim,

Screaming isn't gonna help

Bodybags by my side,

Chainsaw never leaves my sight,

Nowhere left for you to hide.

I adore the way you're face fits mine, like it was destined to be,

Using your skull as a cereal bowl,

Is the way I fucking role.

Peeling off skin for a fucking living,

Placing your skulls on my bedposts,

Designer dress made from human flesh,

And a cold bloody mask to match it.

Dragging your body into the basement,

To reveal a pile of rotting flesh,

A pyramid of bodies take up half the storage,

And your just adding to my collection.

Wearing your skin as a suit,

Makes me feel so colossol,

The gift I get from real life death,

Is what bounds me to my chainsaw.

As the malodour leaks out the front door,

It's a race against time before I get found.

Until I get found