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My tools, lovely tools of grisly torture - facilitate, violent acts of therapy
Captured, victims soon to be freed, of the obligations of true existence
Take them to another level, a calm place, a quiet place,
where all that is known is peace, and death
Inner turmoil, released via torn artery
feel the stress leave as the hammer strikes again and again
darkest secrets removed through the hole I cut into your stomach
you will not scream, after I cut our your tongue
The hacksaw sinks its teeth into the shoulder, back and forth, over and over,
apply more force as the blade hits bone, suck the marrow from the stump
Depraved acts to end your suffering, wrench used for facial bludgeoning
We need you awake, a scalpel will remove those pesky eyelids
It's the tool shed therapy,
Your blood is all over me
Please stop bleeding, I am beginning to feel queasy
Cauterize: blowtorch will weld the stub shut
You scream, but you know I know what is best
regurgitation, vomit into the cut open chest
I will sate your fear of death, and grant you immortality
never to rot, as your living carcass mummified
Entrails spill to the concrete floor, Adding to the ever growing pile of gore
The bodily fluids creating a stench, at last my thirst for blood is quenched
The brutality of these acts, is justified by the simple facts
The people I take, I make them free, each becoming a part of me
It's the tool shed therapy,
Your blood is all over me
The horror continues, for the victim still alive, dissecting for all time
Exploring vital organs, while muscles are torn, chiseling the flesh off bone
Suck on your guts, you're fading, no I can't lose you now,
Stab you back to life with a butcher knife it's too late, you've flat lined
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