Sawed off limbs
Littering
The human chop shop

Dead bodies
Left rotting
In piles

Heinously
Dismembered
Reduced to nothing
But a mountain of dead flesh

Gone
Never to be found
Cold
Corpses abound
Blood
Spilled everywhere
Rot
Death consumes the air

Disposal of the dead
Is how I make my bread
Customers in droves
Seeking my skills
Making people vanish
Is my specialty
I never turn down work
Just pay the fuckin fee

Scalpels, forceps, hacksaws
Tools of the trade
First removing digits
Next I'm pulling teeth
Making sure there's no trace
That this lump of meat is you
Never worked a day cuz I
Love what I do

In my human chop shop
Cadavers are erased
Unidentifiable
Not a single trace

Make a Y-incision
To open up the breastplate
Fiendishly removing
All the viscera

In my human chop shop
Cadavers are erased
Unidentifiable
Not a single trace

Trace
Not a single trace

Smashing your bones
Bashing your skull
Ravage the spine
Savage decline

Place...the scattered parts
In....tightly tied bags
No one will ever find you
Dig...your resting place
Gone...deceased