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MP3 1.8 MB • 128 kbps • 1:58
Lyrics
The scene starts in a rundown buildin' hidden in the shadows
Withought doubt abbandon, crows brains smashed in wit' battle
Axes attack, slice the skin of there backs opend for free lunch
For a sickley disturbed being who creeped there to feast on..
But when he's feeling really starving he hordes every place
Every rode, every packed street, lookin' for mosals to taste
Swoops past each man, swiftly sniffing them wit his venom
Ready, 'cos if he smells any fear, he's found his next victom
He cary's them down past the shaddowful town, for the men
Or women he found tastful, he takes 'em down, forcin' them
On a table to torcher them, 'cos he likes it the best morbid
As flesh pours are stretch more, he feasts on chest organs
No one assorted the diesease he was born with, but nothin
Makes him happier than slashin' scars, and eatin stomachs
And he loves the sicknin' crunch of the bones, shatterin domes
And the feel when he hits a vein and blood splatters his clothes
He brings visions badder than those, when he targets heads
Get severd after he seeps his nails in, and rips appart they chest
The savage acts he makes consists of constant bites, grounds
Stained with blood, draind there veins, leave them dried, now
As blood runs down to save for later, he turns the lights out
Tastes your brain, or break your drained pours, bite your eyes out
After lickin' your sidicted lifless body of taste, before he finishes
In a swift action, he attacks again, but he detaches your ligaments
With a Drac', act like as fast as a cracked back, can't match that
To make sure you're cleaned out, then your parts get patched back
Then he puts the victoms' bodys as ordaments, covering the sandy
Path maganging to latch 'em with tacs, placed by they family,
And he keeps it unsanatary, fairly by keepin' in the impression
He left when he stitched it up, but he kept some organs left in
A set tin, coverd up, and cut up, incase the feind wants seconds
Chests are crested, and he keeps it locked up, so when he steps in
He can taste, n' sniff the air, he has a fetish for rotted intestines
'Cos he after he's done, he loves the feelin' he's gettin...
Watch out for the deadly sick being who will feast, and beat your
Whole body, you stepped in the mind of Jeepers Creepers
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