Bowels Of Murder

Moon of Mons Can you hear the screams feeble, weak and asphyxiated Lurid blade keeps grinding bones In the grimy darkness Near the River Hate and the Path of Worry Stream of sadness As the haunted soul Unearth the madness Bowels of murder Sweep the River Hate And the Path of Worry Stream of sadness Obsessed, He will kill again Butcher of Mons Butcher of Mons Savage mad lures the whores To cut away with pain Repetition, Past bears the same