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
