disembowelled my old friend,
watched his guts exit, distend
as he hung there he was bleeding,
anatomy book I was reading
an incision that I then put in his brain,
caused no pain...
this was a round of violence

I cut up flesh and skin and bone
no fava beans, I used a scone
but the blood made all the bread damp
I sopped it up applied a vein clamp
then his eyes were stabbed by the slash
of a kitchen knife...and it felt nice..
another round of violence

and in the bloody room I saw,
ten thousand blood drops maybe more
he was talking but not speaking,
he had voided and was reeking
he was flopping there like a kite in a summer breeze
I slashed his knees
I love this round of violence

wretched world you do not know
pushed too far I knew I'd blow
hear my words, now I beseech you
I will kill if I can reach you
but I warn you of the subtle blood drops well..
I've seen them swell..in violence

some of my victims bowed and prayed
as I danced upon their grave
and the lifes snuffed out, a warning
all my anger quickly forming
all the signs are the words of the killer
are written in hand dried blood, it's mixed with mud..
and proof is in the rounds... of violence