instrumentals
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #5,877
Peak in subgenre #3,157
Author
Lewin Hayes
Uploaded
August 11, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.6 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
Well i seem to enjoy writing topical story themed tunes, so i decided to write a horror hook.
Lyrics
In the lab, his patients were patiently waiting
A half-dead lad dying blatantly emaciating
A paraplegic man devoid of his hands
Strategic stitches, and moldy hospital bands
He blubbered demands of a sedated chord
Footsteps resonated from outside the ward
Brains bored scattered the floor matted and more
Then the doctor, blood stained splattered in gore
Battered the door, entered a decor so vile
In hardcore style with a hack whore like smile
Laughing at the man trying to talk, mad as he walked
Body number 24, of the countless he had stalked
A table of gruesome medical implements
Blood dried toys, his critical instruments
Customized with slicers, and disguised incisors
Prised from patients for his devised devises
Stolen orthopedic equipment and spinning disks
A stolen paraplegic drips, grinning as he grips
The life from his eyes, incision in immobile thighs
Time flies when slicing guys to Chernobyl like cries
When the pain was too much, the man passed out
The doctor looked to the boy, the kid tried to shout
Nothing came out except the air of putrid despair
Thought it wasn’t fair under the doctors morbid glare
A laugh, no, full cackle (loud gargamel cackle)
For the boy as he pulled like a bull at his shackle
Bloody wrists below bloody slits and stitches
Lay beside his left lung, and butchered bits of bitches
And the other mans hands, still with medical bands
Had to keep them alive, to complete his plans
Hostile life spans, bodies bleed in revolution
To speed evolution he would need a solution
To answer his question with forgotten reasons
Meaningless deaths, bodies rotten with lesions
Stank through seasons, blended and eerie
Remembered clearly how he extended the theory
Life was a boundary of breath broken only by Seth
Theory outspoken his ward was now a foundry of death
Doctor D, the mans masher
Doctor D, devil to be
Doctor D, the mans slasher
Doctor D, devil to be
Doctor D, the mans masher
Doctor D, devil to be
Doctor D, the mans slasher
Doctor D, devil to be
A scientific brain can bring pain horrifically insane
Specifically vain to leave any name prolifically slain
Dusty people’s eyes bust with rusty needles
Chronologically kept in the doctors book of trusty evils
Mutilated mans mangled with killing contraptions
Faces frozen in fear still instilling chilling captions
Fingers blood dried grasped the boys face as he cried
A yellow grin grew wide as his tears dried on the inside
Saw the kid cringe as he reached for his syringe
Then lifted his chest open like it was on a hinge
To show gore, attached to a pulley and cogs
7 years past, his son died, ripped fully by dogs
Fatherly affection so strong he’d rather see a resurrection
A body collection to satiate his sons organ rejection
Mechanized movement devised with imbuement
He despised bemusement at his prized improvement
Bravery exceeding mice, but human life the price
Never slavery to slice a savory splice kept nice in ice
He took a key to a lock instead of a heart he had a clock
Family tree took a knock but where there’s a tick there’s a tock
Inside the clock, he needed a name to make it start
Usefully used his brain to create his sons heart
The lock unlatched a tube that the syringe attached
Heart now detached his blood binge was unmatched
The boy cringed as the blood scratched through his veins
In full view of his pains he foolishly loosened his chains
Stumbled and slipped on brains as the boy ripped his reigns
Trains of thought whipped and dipped a script of names
No name, for brother or mother
In his brain, there was no other
Doctor D, the mans masher
Doctor D, devil to be
Doctor D, the mans slasher
Doctor D, devil to be
Doctor D, the mans masher
Doctor D, devil to be
Doctor D, the mans slasher
Doctor D, devil to be
Back arched and neck tensed, teeth bared before bustles
Boy was ripped, fuck the muscles from Brussels
The boy looked left, the doctor lay sprawled
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