Gortician Next Religion
Waters of oblivion
Raining down terror
Mausoleum of your fears
Preying on your horror
Your faith I demand
I expect no less
Sacrosanct command
Your obedience I bless
Author of sedition
I am the next religion
Obscurity a shroud
I use to cloak myself in
Conjuring up images
To define your sins
The pettiness of your idolization
I laugh at your transgressions
Primal need for deification
I am your obsession
God of war, God of the blind
I am the god, in your mind
Bringer of wisdom
I am the next religion
Cellar of Horror
An innocent victim, it's easy to pick them
A young girl out walking alone
I prowl the streets nightly
So lock your doors tightly
It's best to just stay in your home
Cruising by slowly, you might even know me
Our next meeting will be your last
Your pretty young pout, as I knock you out
Tonight I am ending my fast
Pure and unspoiled, I've troubled and toiled
Over how to prepare such a dish
Losing all fear, as the hour grows near
Tonight I will get my wish
Bound and gagged in my basement
Subject to debasement
Staring death right in the eyes
Preparations begin, as I season your skin
Oblivious to your muffled cries
Starting to boil, you're bathed in hot oil
Your meat soon will fall from your bones
Practically starving, you're ripe for the carving
A gourmond leaving no unturned stones
The hunger sets in, I remove your skin
Surveying the blood-stained room
The rest of your flesh will stay Tupperware fresh
Alone in a deep-freezer tomb...
CELLAR OF HORROR
