Låttexter
Face down in the bed sheets
She opens up my butt-cheeks
Tied up on the bed posts
Stretching, ripping, tearing holes
Breathing down my neck
Dripping wet with sweat
They all hear my screams
They don't care it seems
Plot my revenge
I'll send a message
My final stand
Frying pan in hand
Creep behind the shower curtain
Father's death is certain
Mother's death I'll follow through
Fuck the dog I'll kill him too
Slaughtered in the bathroom
Their flesh I will consume
Set fire to the room
Not caring was their doom
Plot my revenge
I'll send a message
My final stand
Frying pan in hand