Wintermorning

The scream remain from last night

when he skilfuled took her life

It's not heroic

When he slices them with a knife

but his desire dies



He is killing for pleasure

To decrease his desire

How many bodies can we count now

You have made the crimson snow



Another victim

Was found couldn't be recognized

he must have felt joy

Hear my warning

Don't walk under the dark sky

cause he roams when it falls



He is killing for pleasure

To decrease his desire

How many bodies can we count now

You have made the crimson snow



It must have burnt like a fire

to get caught and facing a trial

He must pay for his crimes

sentenced to death for all those lives



Executed

He will be on our TV screens

they are going to fry his brain

In the electric chair

We see his eyes turning red

when he slowly joins the dead



He was killing for pleasure

to decrase his desire

Now his body is melted

entertainment we created