I speak the language of those who kill,
Seeing a murder another thrill.
I'm hearing voices of another kind,
Taking the lives of the bodies I find.
The color red fills the blackest night,
As my blade is shoved into your back.
Bodies running from every place,
As I wait for my next attack.
I smell the presence of my innocent prey,
Watching as they try to run away.
I crush their bodies as the killing begins,
Tasting the blood that flows from their limbs.
The color red fills the blackest night,
As my blade is shoved into your back.
Bodies running from every place,
As I wait for my next attack.